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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24464662">Win Some or Learn Some</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jade4813/pseuds/Jade4813'>Jade4813</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:20:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>48,161</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24464662</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jade4813/pseuds/Jade4813</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Zoey has just discovered her new powers, but they develop an inconvenient glitch that makes her start to realize her feelings for him may not be what she's always believed. The only problem is, she has no idea if he feels the same way.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Zoey Clarke/Max Richman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>126</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p><br/>  <br/></p>
</div><p>Zoey’s life had taken a hard left turn into weird territory. It had been two days since her MRI went haywire. Two days since she’d started hearing people’s deepest emotions through song. Two days of trying to figure out how to tell her best friend about her superpower. It wasn’t as easy as it sounded. When she told him she could hear people’s heartsongs, he was more likely to suspect a brain tumor than a superpower.</p>
<p>Which is why she was standing next to Max’s desk, waving her hands in wide arcs until they came together in front of her with a loud clap. Trying to work up the nerve to tell him the truth. She just had to tell him she was the world's first superhero. How hard could it be?</p>
<p>She spun around, ready to blurt it out, and saw he was already looking at her with an expression of intense concern. “Are you okay?”</p>
<p>“Who, me?” she squeaked. “I’m fi – wh-why would you ask?”</p>
<p>“You seem really stressed. And you look like you’re about to be sick.”</p>
<p>“N-no!” she replied, way too loudly and definitely with an uncomfortable twitch. “Pssh. I’m fine. I’m so calm, I’m practically asleep.” Oh, god, there were words coming out of her mouth, she couldn’t seem to stop them from coming, and they were <em>all bad</em>.</p>
<p>Which would be okay if she was talking to anyone other than Max, who knew her well enough to know she absolutely was not fine. Or calm. And the look on his face gave her absolutely no doubt that he wasn’t buying her protestations for a minute. “If you say so,” he said dubiously.</p>
<p>She clutched onto the first excuse she could think of. “Okay, you got me. I’m just worried. About the – um – the promotion. You know, all this waiting.”</p>
<p>His concern morphed to sympathy. “Oh, hey, it’s okay. You’ve totally got this! Joan would be an idiot not to pick you.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” she agreed weakly, trying to figure out how to pivot the conversation back to superpowers and heart songs.</p>
<p>Max seemed to pick up on her lingering tension, but he of course misunderstood the reason behind it. Because, again, <em>I have a superpower and can hear people’s feelings through songs</em> had to be the least probable explanation for her behavior. Even if it was the truth. “I have an idea,” he suggested brightly, throwing her an encouraging smile. “Why don’t we go out tonight? Just you and me? We can head out after work. Grab some dinner and de-stress a little.”</p>
<p>Zoey threw him a weak smile. “Yeah. Sure. That sounds great,” she agreed. Maybe at some point in the next six hours, she’d find the words she needed to tell him about her strange new ability. He was still looking at her with an adorable, encouraging smile. (Well, other women seemed to find it adorable. Not <em>her</em>, of course, because he was just her best friend, and she didn’t think about him like that. But plenty of <em>other women</em> seemed to find it adorable. Which was totally fine and didn’t bother Zoey at all.) She tried to feign nonchalance as she raced towards her desk, wanting to make a break for it before he caught on that there was something else going on.</p>
<p>Several hours later, she still hadn’t found the words to tell him the truth as the two rode the elevator down to the ground level together. “So, what’s the plan?” she asked brightly, trying not to focus on her immediate failures.</p>
<p>“Well, I thought we could grab some takeout from that new restaurant Leif keeps talking about. The Boathouse Kitchen? Which I'm sure you'll agree is a ridiculous name for a restaurant." At her nod of agreement, he continued, "We can take it back to my place if you want to make fun of my bad taste in movies while we eat.” She knew he was joking, trying to get her to relax a little, and she threw him a wan smile for his efforts. “Hey,” he said, putting his hand on the back of her arm. “This whole thing with Joan…I know you’re worried, but it’ll be okay. You’re the best coder she’s got, and I’m sure she knows that.”</p>
<p>“Thanks,” she offered in a weak voice, feeling guilty that he was trying so hard to comfort her over the wrong thing. “I appreciate the concern, but actually, I, uh, I was wondering how we’re going to get to the restaurant. It’s not exactly close, and I didn’t bring my car.”</p>
<p>Max was undeterred by this logistical issue, taking a glance down at his phone. “We can take some scooters. Looks like there are a couple nearby.”</p>
<p>Zoey balked, well aware of her tendency towards clumsiness at the most inopportune moments. “Oh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”</p>
<p>“Come on. I think they have a top speed of eight miles an hour. How bad can it be?” he asked, his smile warm and reassuring. His hand had slid from her arm to the small of her back, and she found its presence oddly comforting. “Just think of it like a mini-adventure.”</p>
<p>She wasn’t entirely sold, but when he smiled at her like that, she couldn’t find it in her to turn him down. “Okay,” she agreed in a reluctant tone.</p>
<p>Several minutes later, she had to admit that Max’s idea had been a good one. She’d never ridden one of the city’s rentable scooters before, and it had taken her a little bit to lose the fear that she’d fall off somehow and kill herself. It didn’t hurt that lazy butterflies probably moved faster than her scooter did at top speed. They made it to the restaurant and picked up their food in one piece, and then came the time to ride the scooters back to Max’s apartment for dinner and a movie.</p>
<p>They were about a block away when it happened. Zoey heard singing and watched as a man on the sidewalk pulled away from the woman at his side, his body language changing from anger to regret as he sang, <em>“You are far when I could have been your star. You listened to people who scared you to death and from my heart. Strange that you were strong enough to even make a start. But you’ll never find peace of mind ‘til you listen to your heart…”</em></p>
<p>Distracted by the impromptu performance, Zoey continued to watch as she passed on her scooter, taking her eyes off the road in front of her long enough not to see the bicyclist until it was too late. Hearing Max’s shout, she whipped her head around and swerved, careening her scooter straight into a tree.</p>
<p>She let out a yelp as she fell, the bag holding their dinners split, spilling their meals across the curb. Then she watched in horror as Max, distracted himself by her accident, swerved into the street to get around a group of strolling pedestrians and was clipped by a car’s side mirror as it sped past. It was enough to cause him to lose his balance, and his scooter slid out from under him as he fell to the side, landing hard on the pavement.</p>
<p>Zoey sat up, wanting to rush to make sure he was okay, but he was faster. He scrambled to his feet and raced to her side, kneeling in front of her as he scanned her for injuries. “Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes filled with concern.</p>
<p>“I think so,” she said with a wince. Her palm was a raw from where she fell, her chin and arm hurt, and she could tell she’d gotten a fairly bad scrape on her leg. But it didn’t feel like anything was broken. She grabbed onto his arm, grateful he seemed to be okay. “Oh, god, you’re bleeding!” she cried, noticing the injury through a tear in the arm of his grey pullover shirt.</p>
<p>“It’s just a scrape,” he reassured her. “I’m more worried about you. Do you want me to call a doctor? Maybe we should go to urgent care, just in case.”</p>
<p>“I’m fine,” she told him, resting her hands on his chest. “I just want to get to your place and get cleaned up, if that’s okay.”</p>
<p>He didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he nodded. “Okay,” he said, helping her to her feet. She winced when she put weight on her left foot and realized she’d bruised her ankle in the fall. He must have seen her reaction, because he asked one more time, “Are you sure you don’t want to -”</p>
<p>“I’m sure.” But she was grateful when he put his arm around her waist to help take some of the weight off her foot as she hobbled forward. The were almost there when her foot slipped on a break in the sidewalk, causing her to hiss out a breath between clenched teeth. Max stopped and leaned down, sweeping her into his arms.</p>
<p>Zoey let out a small squeak of surprise, though she looped her arm around the back of his neck. “I don’t know if this is a good idea. Your arm -”, she protested weakly as he carried her inside.</p>
<p>His eyes were warm as he looked down at her. “It’s fine, I promise. But we need to get you some ice for that ankle.”</p>
<p>She could feel the warmth of his body through her side, pressed against his chest, and sighed as she lay her head on his shoulder. “We’re also going to have to get something delivered. Remind me to pay you back for dinner, since I totally ruined it before we even got here.”</p>
<p>“Nah, it’s okay. I should have known Zoey plus scooter was a dangerous combination,” he teased her gently as he set her down gently on the couch before heading to the bathroom to grab his first aid kit.</p>
<p>“That’s not fair!” she protested in a loud voice to his retreating back. “I am not that clumsy!”</p>
<p>When Max returned, first aid kit in hand, his voice was filled with affectionate amusement as he said, “Oh, really? Do I need to remind you of Traingate? The Great Skiing Disaster of 2017? The time you sprained your ankle putting on a pair of pants? That one time you lost a fight with your bathroom cabinet and sprained -”</p>
<p>“Okay, okay. I get the point,” Zoey told him, hoping to hide her smile behind a glower. “So I can be a little clumsy. My point is, I’m not <em>that</em> clumsy. On a sliding scale of clumsiness, I’m a six. <em>Tops</em>.” Seeing the look on his face, she mumbled, “Okay, maybe a seven.”</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t call you clumsy,” he said lightly, and his touch was gentle as he knelt in front of her, pulling her foot into his lap to help pull up her pant leg so he could inspect her injury. “A walking disaster, maybe, but not clumsy.”</p>
<p>“Hey!” she cried with an affronted laugh, smacking him on the shoulder, but her humor turned to a hiss of pain when he grabbed a cloth to gently clean the tree bark and dirt out of the wound on her leg.</p>
<p>Leaning forward, he blew on the injured area until the stinging stopped, and then he threw her an affectionate smile. “You can embrace your status as walking disaster, Zo. I love you anyway.”</p>
<p>She started to cross her arms over her chest, but he grabbed her hand so he could treat the scrape there and on her arm, so she had to content herself with a pout as she mumbled sullenly, “If I’m a walking disaster, than so are you. You crashed too, you know.”</p>
<p>Scooting forward, he told her to tilt her head back so he could get a look at the scrape on her chin. “This doesn’t look too bad, but it may sting a little,” he murmured, cupping her face in his palm to brace her as he started to gently clean the wound. She made a soft sound in the back of her throat when her wound started to sting, her eyes drifting closed when he leaned forward and blew gently on the area until the pain faded.</p>
<p>“But you love me, right?” he asked in a soft voice, so close she could feel his breath fan against her skin at the question.</p>
<p>“Wh-what?” she  asked, jerking slightly as her eyes flew open to look at him in surprise. He didn’t…he <em>couldn’t</em> mean what she thought he meant, could he?</p>
<p>If his question had any deeper meaning, it wasn’t evident in his expression or his tone as he leaned his weight back onto his toes and dug around in his first aid kit for a band-aid. “Well, you said I’m a walking disaster. But you love me anyway, right?”</p>
<p>“Uh…yeah,” she mumbled, blushing in embarrassment. “I love you anyway.” Through her mortification, she noticed he had begun to pack up the first aid kit, and she let out a sharp cry of dismay. “Oh, no you don’t!” she cried, lunching forward to grab the box out of his hands. “It’s your turn.”</p>
<p>“Zoey, I’m fine!” he protested.</p>
<p>She just glowered at him. “Sit.” Though he sighed, he did as she instructed, lowering himself onto the couch next to her. “That’s better. Now. Shirt off.”</p>
<p>He let out a small laugh, the sound conveying both surprise and disbelief. “What?”</p>
<p>She moved to kneel before him. “Since you’re being an idiot, I don’t trust you to tell me where you’re hurt. Shirt. Off.”</p>
<p>Grumbling good-naturedly, he shook his head and grabbed the bottom of his shirt, yanking it over his head and tossing it aside. “Yes, ma’am,” he teased her gently. At least, Zoey thought that’s what he said. She wasn’t entirely sure, because his bare chest was directly in front of her, and <em>how had she never seen his bare chest before</em>?</p>
<p>It wasn’t that she thought Max’s body would be hideous under his clothing. She had eyes, after all, and though he may not be her type – she’d never thought about him <em>that way</em>, honest – she was well aware that many people would call him attractive. It had just never occurred to her that he might be quite so…hot. Or built.</p>
<p>She swallowed heavily, her eyes growing wide, and her fingers itched to reach out and stroke the lines of his chest. She opened her mouth, closed it, and swallowed again, trying to get herself under control. “Zoey? You okay?” Max asked, tilting his head to the side and giving her a confused look.</p>
<p>His words spurred her into action, and she turned her attention to the first aid kit, digging around in it far longer than strictly necessary as she fought to get her breathing and heartrate under control. “What? Yeah. I was just…thinking. About work. Uh, I should take a look at your elbow first, since it was bleeding.”</p>
<p>He didn’t comment again on her strange behavior; he just stuck out his elbow for her to peruse. She could see the trembling in his hands as she reached for him, but she managed to keep her composure by focusing on the task at hand. “It, uh, it doesn’t look too deep,” she murmured, and he didn’t make a sound as she gently cleaned his wound. She blew on it, remembering how it had helped sooth the sting.</p>
<p>“All right. Where else?” she asked, resting her weight back on her heels. He lifted one arm, turning to the side so she could see a long scrape along his stomach, curving around his side almost to his back. “Max! Why didn’t you tell me about this?” she demanded, though she didn’t rush to treat it when she realized that doing so would require her to touch his bare skin. And those muscles she’d been so entranced by not long before.</p>
<p>“It’s not that bad!” he protested, and it was true that it didn’t look that deep. On the other hand, she didn’t want to admit as much to him, just on principle. But that meant she was going to have to touch him. His bare skin.</p>
<p>Sucking in a deep breath, she grabbed the cloth and steeled herself to do what she had to do. Working quickly, she cleaned his injury, not even realizing she was blowing on the wound until she heard him suck in a sharp breath. It was his first noticeable reaction, and when her gaze darted to his face, she saw that he was staring at her. “I’m – uh – I’m almost done,” she whispered.</p>
<p>“It’s fine.”</p>
<p>She knew she should pack up and let him put his shirt back on. Under no circumstances should she touch him any more than she had to. But even though she told herself she should pack up the first aid kit and give him some space, she didn’t move. Instead, she flicked her tongue against her lips and breathed, “Looks like you’re going to have quite the bruise.” With one trembling finger, she gently traced the skin just above his hip, which was already starting to discover.</p>
<p>His voice was soft. “It’s – it’s not so bad.”</p>
<p>His words made her realize just how inappropriate she was being. Yanking her hand away, she leaned back, quickly throwing items back in the first aid kit. “You, um, you can put your shirt back on,” she mumbled.</p>
<p>Jumping to her feet, she turned away. “You want me to order some food?”</p>
<p>“Sure,” he replied. She heard him move behind her, and hoped it was the sound of him putting his shirt back on. Trying to think of anything other than his bare chest, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed it quickly, phoning their favorite Chinese delivery place. After all the evenings they’d spent together, eating takeout and watching movies, she didn’t even have to ask Max what he wanted.</p>
<p>That done, she began to pace back and forth, her mind once again turning to the task she’d been putting off for two days. “Listen, there’s something I have to tell you,” she began, keeping her focus on her hands. Maybe it would be easier to tell him the truth this way. Though she still had no idea how to convince him it was true. “I just…I’m not sure what to…how to…”</p>
<p> “You can tell me anything, Zoey. You know that,” he told her gently, moving behind her.</p>
<p>“The thing is…I…” She turned and saw he was looking at her with kind eyes. She opened her mouth to say the words she’d been trying to find for days. <em>“I have a superpower.” </em>But instead, when she opened her mouth, she was surprised to hear herself start to sing.</p>
<p><em>“I’ve been awake for a while now. You’ve got me feeling like a child now. ‘Cause every time I see your bubbly face, I get tingles in a silly place.” </em>Her eyes widening in horror, she clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to stop the words that were spilling out, beyond her control. But try though she might, she couldn’t hold it back for long. Her hand shook with the desire to keep it over her mouth, but whatever had taken over her was stronger than her will, because she dropped her hand and danced closer to him. Trailing her fingers down his chest, she sang flirtatiously, <em>“It starts in my toes, and I crinkle my nose. Where it goes, I always know. That you make me smile, please stay for a while now. Just take your time, wherever you go.”</em></p>
<p>“Oh, you…you want to sing? That’s what you wanted to tell me?” he asked, sounding confused.</p>
<p>Against her will, she giggled and spun around, pressing back against him before twirling around his body. <em>“It starts in my toes, and I crinkle my nose. Where it goes, I always know. That you make me smile, please stay for a while now. Just take your time, wherever you go.”</em></p>
<p>“Zoey? I – uh – I don’t actually know what’s going on right now.” The urge to sing passed as quickly as it had overtaken her, and she froze in place, her mind racing as she tried to figure out a way to salvage this situation. “Why were you singing to me?”</p>
<p>Why had she sung to him? Unless she found a whole new, horrifying aspect to her powers. One that made her sing, rather than hearing the heartsongs of other people. The thought had terrifying implications that she couldn’t bear to even imagine.</p>
<p>Her shoulders stiff with tension, she spun around to face him, her eyes wide with horror. “Oh. Sh-”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This wasn’t exactly how she’d planned to tell him about her new ability – not that she had anything resembling an actual <em>plan</em> – but it seemed the universe had decided she was out of time. Or at least had decided to leave her out of options. “That’s actually what I meant to tell you. I know how this is going to sound, but,” Zoey paused and took a deep breath before blurting, “I have a superpower.”</p><p>Max looked at her like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Or for the punchline. And when he said, “Okay,” he drew out the word a little.</p><p>“No, it’s true! When I went in for my MRI a couple of days ago, there was an earthquake, and…well, I’m actually not sure how to explain what happened. But ever since then, I’ve had this power. It’s like I can hear people’s deepest feelings – things they’d maybe never want anyone else to know – through song.” With that, she lead him back to the couch, sitting next to him as she explained what she knew about her powers so far. Which admittedly wasn’t much.</p><p>When she was done, he didn’t look entirely convinced, but he wasn’t rushing her off to the hospital for another scan of her brain, so she took that as a positive sign. But he still sounded skeptical when he began in a slow voice, “Zoey, you know that’s a lot to take in.”</p><p>Before he could continue, she grabbed his hand and gave it a hard squeeze. “I know. I know how it sounds. Believe me. I do. But it’s the truth. I swear. You’re my best friend, and I…I really need you to believe me.”</p><p>His nod was slow and thoughtful, and she almost sighed in relief when he linked his fingers in hers. “Then I believe you. I’m here for you, Zoey. Whatever you need.” A moment of silence fell between them, and then he asked, “Out of curiosity, have you ever heard me sing anything?</p><p>She shook her head, grateful that he was willing to try to understand – and that she could answer this question honestly without freaking him out. “No. So far, I’ve mostly heard people on the street. And Simon.”</p><p>He looked away, running one hand through his hair as he seemed to mull over her confession. Part of her was relieved he didn’t ask for more details about Simon’s heart song, because she still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the way she had used what she had learned to get close to him. Instead, he said, “But I don’t understand. You said you have heard other people sing to you, but you just sang to me.”</p><p>Zoey grimaced. She was still trying not to panic about that new development and all of its unfortunate possible ramifications. “Yeah, I know. And I’m not really sure how to explain that, actually. Do you think this may be an aspect of my powers that just hadn’t come out until now for some reason?”</p><p>“I have no idea,” he admitted. “It could be because we’re friends? You said everyone you’ve heard so far has been a stranger.” Or, in Simon’s case, a near-stranger, since she hadn’t managed to say more than a word or two to him before she heard his heartsong. “Maybe you hear strangers sing to you, but you sing to people you know?” She could actually feel the blood drain from her face as she looked at him in horror. That possibility hadn’t even occurred to her. Noting her panic, he rushed to reassure her. “Or…you have a cut on your chin, so you must have hit your head. Maybe your singing is because of that!”</p><p>It was a sad day indeed when Zoey found herself praying for a concussion because the alternative was worse. “Maybe,” she agreed weakly.</p><p>Striking his thumb across her palm, he said in a soft, reassuring tone, “Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out. Together. Okay?”</p><p>She nodded her agreement with a shaky smile. Curling her feet underneath her – gingerly, in the case of her sore ankle – she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “We have Mo's help, too. My next door neighbor. He’s the only other person who knows.” At his questioning look, she explained, “I was freaking out when it first happened and needed someone to talk to.”</p><p>“I understand. But you should know you can always talk to me.”</p><p>“I do, but I…I guess I was afraid you’d think there was something wrong with me. That you’d think I was weird or something.”</p><p>Max chuckled, pressing his cheek against the top of her head. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. I <em>definitely</em> think you’re weird. But you’re my kind of weird.”</p><p>Zoey grinned, relaxing against his side. But she hesitated when she realized it was the second time he’d said something like that in the past hour or so. Like she was special to him. Like maybe he had feelings for her that went beyond friendship. Was she reading too much into innocent words? Did she want to be? Rather than analyze that question more closely, she poked him in the side and asked teasingly, “So, what song would you sing if I heard one of your heartsongs?”</p><p>Without missing a beat, he suggested, “'Baby Got Back.'”</p><p>She laughed. “Be serious!”</p><p>Max looked at her out of the corner of his eye, but she could see a smile lurking in the corner of his mouth as he asked innocently, “How do you know I’m not being serious? Maybe my anaconda <em>don’t </em>want none unless you got buns, hon!”</p><p>She didn’t want him to think she found him as amusing as she did – it would only do terrible things for his ego – so she fought back her smile and settled for rolling her eyes at him instead. Before she could tease him further, there was a knock on the door, signaling the arrival of their dinner. “Saved by the bell, Richman. I guess you can keep your secrets for now,” she joked as he jumped to his feet to get the door.</p>
<hr/><p>Zoey was feeling slightly better at work the next day. Her body was still a little sore, but whenever she was tempted to stress about her inexplicable singing the day before, she’d look over at Max’s desk. He’d catch her eye, and his reassuring smile was enough to help her calm down again.</p><p>Until the afternoon, when Simon caught her pilfering a post-lunch snack of granola from the cereal bar. The two engaged in casual conversation as she walked with him towards his office, but as he stepped inside, she felt that overwhelming compulsion from the night before as it began to overtake her.</p><p>“Oh, no,” she breathed, looking at him in dismay. She wanted to run away, but she’d realized when she was singing to Max, that it wouldn’t do her any good. Her body would only betray her and bring her back, until the urge to indulge in a heartsong was gone.</p><p>She didn’t think she’d spoken loud enough to be overheard, but Simon looked at her over his shoulder. “You okay?”</p><p>Zoey nodded. “Yes, but I’m so, so sorry about this.” Then she did a little spin, her hands running down her body of her own volition, and began to sing. <em>“If you see something in my eye, let’s not over-analyze. Don’t go too deep with it, baby.”</em></p><p>Simon was looking at her in surprise as he sank into the chair behind his desk, and though she was internally screaming to run in the opposite direction, she couldn’t keep herself from dancing behind the desk, trailing her hand along his shoulders as she continued, <em>“So let it be what it’ll be. Don’t make a fuss and get crazy over you and me. Here’s what I’ll do: I’ll play loose, not like we have a date with destiny.”</em></p><p>Making her way back to the front of his desk, she crawled on top of it, sending his things flying as she rolled over. Her gaze was flirtatious, taunting, as she sang, <em>“It’s just a little crush. Not like I faint every time we touch. It’s just some little thing. Not like everything I do depends on you.”</em></p><p>When the urge to sing faded, she found herself laying on her back, her legs bent to rest her heels on the edge of his desk. Her head was tilted back over the edge of his desk, her hands trailing across her stomach as she grinned teasingly at him. His eyebrows were lifted in what she could only imagine was confusion – if not downright alarm – and he’d pulled back out of her reach. “Zoey? You wanna tell me what’s going on?”</p><p>“I – I can explain!” she lied, awkwardly sliding off the desk. When she landed hard and tried to spin around on her injured ankle, she hissed in pain and staggered to the side. “Um…I just – there’s something I need –” Unable to think of an excuse that didn’t make her want to set herself on fire, she gulped and ran out of his office – and almost barreled straight into Max’s chest.</p><p>“Zoey?” he asked in concern, grabbing her arms. “What happened? Are you okay?”</p><p>“N-no,” she whimpered, giving her head a hard shake. “I just sang to him. To Simon. I think the song was called ‘Crush’ or something like that. I got on top of his desk, and it was just – it was awful.” Covering her face with her hands, she moaned, “What am I gonna do? What is happening to me?”</p><p>She wanted to curl up into a ball and cry, but Max’s voice was firm as he ran his hands soothingly up and down her arm. “It’ll be okay. We can fix this.”</p><p>Zoey let out a quick, desperate bark of laughter. “Fix it? How? Time travel?”</p><p>“Just trust me. I need you to go to the bathroom and splash some cold water on your face. And when you come back out, you need to pretend like nothing weird happened and it was just a joke. Can you do that for me?” She nodded, and he offered her a small smile and squeezed her arms once, reassuringly. “You can do this, Zo.”</p><p>It was easier said than done, she reflected as she did as he suggested. It wasn’t easy to paste a carefree smile on her face, and she suspected she hadn’t quite managed it by the time she left the relative sanctuary of the restroom and walked back towards her desk. But whatever imitation of a smile she’d managed would have to do, because it was the best she had.</p><p>Whether it looked like a genuine smile or a grimace of pain, the expression melted off her face as she stepped towards her desk and heard Max’s voice, singing loud enough she imagined they could hear him on Mars. <em>“I’m a shooting star, leaping through the sky like a tiger defying the laws of gravity. I’m a racing car, passing by like Lady Godiva. I’m gonna go, go, go; there’s no stopping me!”</em></p><p>Ignoring the sharp pain it caused in her ankle, Zoey raced forward to see Max dance through the office, grinning as he spun in front of Simon, who had left his office to check out the commotion. While Tobin laughed with glee, Max sang, <em>“I’m burnin’ through the sky, yeah. Two hundred degrees, that’s why they call me Mister Fahrenheit. I’m traveling at the speed of light! I wanna make a supersonic man out of you!”</em></p><p>Zoey gasped in alarm when she saw him step onto his chair, which rolled back with dangerous speed as he jumped on top of his desk. Gesturing wildly, he continued to sing at the top of his lungs. <em>“Don’t stop me now, I’m having such a good time. I’m having a ball. Don’t stop me now; if you wanna have a good time, just give me a call! Don’t stop me now ‘cause I’m having a good time. Don’t stop me now, yes I’m havin’ a good time. I don’t want to stop at a-”</em></p><p>“What is going on out here?” Joan’s voice carried through the room, shattering the tableau and breaking Max off mid-song. Though Zoey had hoped she was just witnessing another heartsong, Joan’s reaction left no doubt in her mind that it had been real. What was he <em>thinking</em>? She didn’t have a chance to ask as, pointing first to Max and then to Zoey, Joan gestured for the two to join her in her office. Swallowing heavily, Zoey moved to his side as he jumped off the top of the desk; then the two of them walked meekly to face the music, standing side-by-side. “Do you want to explain what the hell just happened out there?” Joan demanded as the door shut behind them.</p><p>“I, uh -” Zoey began, not even sure how or where to begin.</p><p>Max cut in before she could concoct an excuse. “Zoey’s been pushing us to get a chunk of code done today. She bet me earlier that I couldn’t get my part finished by the end of the day, and I won. But it wasn’t working right, so I made a bet with Tobin that he couldn’t find the error in the code. He found it - really fast, actually - so I had to pay up. And of course whoever lost had to completely humiliate themselves, so…”</p><p>Zoey opened her mouth to protest – he could lose his job for this. When he heard her begin to speak, however, he cut her off once more, throwing Joan a sheepish smile as he said smoothly, “I guess I might have gotten a little carried away there. Sorry about that.”</p><p>Joan’s gaze drifted between them, her expression suggesting she couldn’t decide whether to congratulate Zoey on finding a new way to motivate the team or to fire them both on the spot. Finally, she sat back with a frown, turning her attention back to Zoey. “I appreciate your efforts to think outside of the box to get the work done on time, but next time, keep the stakes to eating Lucky Charms until you puke.” Glowering at Max, she added, “Or whatever you can think of that keeps you <em>off</em> the desks. We’re not paying worker’s comp if you fall and kill yourselves over a bet.”</p><p>Zoey mimicked Max’s expression of meek acquiescence and followed him sheepishly out of Joan’s office, grabbing his arm and pulling him aside as soon as they were out of Joan’s line of sight. “What was that? I can’t believe you just did that!” she said as they ducked behind the hanging wicker chairs.</p><p>He shrugged. “Now Tobin’s going to make sure everyone on the <em>planet</em> know I had to humiliate myself after he found a really obvious error in my code, and Simon will put the pieces together and assume you sang to him because you lost our fictional bet. He might ask you to give him a head’s up next time, but at least he won’t read anything more into it.” When she didn’t say anything right away, his brow furrowed and he threw her a worried frown. “You’re not mad, are you? I was just trying to think of a way to help, and I thought –”</p><p>She interrupted his apology, throwing herself into his arms. Pressing her cheek against his shoulder, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “No, I’m not mad,” she murmured, the words muffled slightly by the fabric of his shirt. “I just…you could have been <em>fired</em>! Did you stop to think about that?”</p><p>“Well, yeah, of course, but…you needed my help, Zoey. What else was I gonna do?” he asked, his hands pressing against the small of her back, drawing her slightly closer. Her heart started to race, and she sighed at the warmth of his touch, catching herself just in time, before she gave in to the temptation to lean in further.</p><p>Her voice was choked with emotion as she mumbled, “You are such an idiot.” Not wanting him to take her words too much to heart, she leaned back and threw him a watery smile. “But…thank you. For being my friend and being there for me. Even when my life is spinning completely out of my control.”</p><p>His smile was soft, his gaze warm, as he spoke in a voice barely above a whisper. “Always.”</p><p>There it was again. That feeling that she was special to him on a level that she’d never even suspected before. Or, perhaps, he was acting as he always had, she wasn’t anything to him beyond a friend, and she was just looking for ways to read more into it. But if that was the case, what did it mean? Swallowing heavily, she pulled out of his arms and admitted, “I don’t deserve you sometimes, but I – I appreciate you. I just want you to know that.”</p><p>If he picked up – let alone shared – her emotional turmoil, it didn’t show as he grinned and said lightly, “I know. Anyway, it’s no big deal. You’d do the same for me.”</p><p>Would she? She’d like to think the answer was yes, but it seemed she didn’t know anything about anything anymore. Least of all herself and her own heart. But she nodded anyway and said, “Um, could you cover for me for a little bit? I just want to step outside and get some fresh air. Try to get my head screwed on straight before I snap and start singing ‘Get This Party Started’ on Joan’s desk.”</p><p>“Is it terrible I kinda want to see that now?” he joked.</p><p>“A little bit,” she admitted, resisting the urge to hit him on the shoulder again.</p><p>Max’s grin was unrepentant, but he grew serious again when he said, “Okay, I’ll cover for you. I know you’re worried about what’s happening, but what happened today? We got through it. And if you’re free after work, we can try to get this thing figured out. I’m sure we can find a way for you to get this a little more under control.”</p><p>Murmuring her thanks one more time, Zoey moved past him and headed for the elevator. With a promotion on the line, she couldn’t afford to take much time away from the office, but she had to figure out how to stop her heartsongs before she cracked. As much as she appreciated Max’s reassurance that they would get to the bottom of it, she was afraid they would only do so when it was too late and the damage – possibly some form of damage she hadn’t even yet contemplated – had been done.</p><p>Trying not to think about the way her heart had started to race when she was in Max’s arms – or the fact that she could swear that had never happened before – she focused her attention instead on his impossibly sweet and self-sacrificing gesture as she waited. When the elevator doors slid open, she stepped inside, scooting past the three women who were headed down from one of the upper floors. They were lost in conversation, so Zoey didn’t really give them a second thought until she felt the compulsion to sing sweep over her again.</p><p><em>Oh, no. Oh no, oh no, oh noohnoohnoohno…</em>she mentally began to plead, her hands forming fists at her sides and her lips pressing together as tightly as they could as she tried to fight back the song. If she could just get outside before she started to sing. It would still be embarrassing, but at least it wouldn’t happen in front of people she might actually have to face again one day.</p><p>But she should have known Lady Luck was not on her side. After the last couple of days, she'd clearly hopped a bus to the East Coast with no plans to return any time soon. As soon as the elevator doors slid shut, Zoey started to blurt out the words to a song she didn’t even know. <em>“If there’s a prize for rotten judgment, I guess I’ve already won that. No man is worth the aggravation. That’s ancient history, been there, done that.”</em></p><p>Although the three women had looked at her askance, they suddenly started to sing along, and Zoey didn’t know whether to hope their impromptu quartet was mostly in her head, or whether it would be worse if they were actually humoring her by joining in. Because the latter would suggest they were probably doing it because they figured it was the safest thing to do when trapped in a small, enclosed space with a woman who couldn’t help but belt out Top Forty hits everywhere she went. <em>“Who d’you think you’re kiddin’? He’s the earth and heaven to you. Try to keep it hidden, honey, we can see right through you. Girl, you can’t conceal it. We know how you feel and who you’re thinking of.”</em></p><p>They had started to dance around her, and she felt herself throw out her arms, stopping them in their tracks. <em>“No chance, no way, I won’t say it, no no.”</em></p><p><em>“You swoon, you sigh. Why deny it? Uh-oh,”</em> they countered.</p><p><em>“It’s too cliché. I won’t say I’m in love,” </em>Zoey protested through song as the elevator doors slid back open, and her fellow riders half-ran, half-danced their way to the exit. She wanted to stay where she was until the song passed, but her feet propelled her forward anyway as she continued in mournful defiance, <em>“I thought my heart had learned its lesson. It feels so good when you start out. My head is screaming, ‘Get a grip, girl! Unless you’re dying to cry your heart out!’”</em></p><p>She almost wasn’t surprised when the lobby full of people picked up the song, twirling around her and swaying back and forth as they responded, <em>“You keep on denying who you are and how you’re feeling. Baby, we’re not buying. Hon, we saw you hit the ceiling. Face it like a grown-up! When you gonna own up that you got, got, got it bad?”</em></p><p><em>“No chance, no way! I won’t say it, no no!” </em>she shot back.</p><p>One woman sashayed forward and pressed her finger on Zoey’s chin, just above her scrape. <em>“Give up, give in. Check the grin, you’re in love!”</em></p><p>Spinning away, she tried to push her way through the crowd that continued to dance around her. <em>“This scene won’t play, I won’t say I’m in love.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“You’re doin’ flips. Read our lips, you’re in love!”</em>
</p><p><em>“You’re way off base, I won’t say it!”</em> Zoey retorted, making her way to the exit. <em>“Get off my case, I won’t say it!”</em></p><p>Just before she hit the door, another woman slid in front of her and sang softly, <em>“Girl, don’t be proud. It’s okay, you’re in love.”</em></p><p>She finally burst through the doors to the street, and she was relieved to discover that nobody had followed her. Only the people passing by on the street heard her softly sing the last lines of the song. <em>“Oh. At least out loud, I won’t say I’m in love.”</em></p><p>With the song finished, the compulsion evaporated once more, and Zoey collapsed against the side of the building, sucking in huge gulps of air. There was no doubt about it. She’d found the thing that might break if she didn’t get this inconvenient new aspect of her powers under control. Immediately. Like yesterday. At the very least, before she saw Max again and blurted out a song he probably didn’t even want to hear.</p><p>Because even if she wanted to admit to herself that she had deeper feelings for him than she’d ever believed – and she most certainly <em>was not </em>ready to face that possibility just yet – she had no real reason to believe he felt the same way about her. No reason that wasn’t probably a result of her reading too much into things, possibly because of said feelings she was not yet willing to confront.</p><p>So, all things considered, she’d been wrong when she thought that the worst thing that could happen would be for her to sing about her crush to Simon. Or even her singing something entirely inappropriate to Joan. In truth, the worst thing that could happen would be for her to sing about possible feelings to Max, her best friend, and losing him completely when he pulled away rather than lead her on because he didn’t feel the same way.</p><p>To hell with the rest of the day. She was going to run home and hide. Until either she had these powers of hers under control, or until the heat death of the universe. Whichever came first.</p><p>But the ramifications of her song were too overwhelming to ignore completely just yet. So before she left, she leaned her head back against the window supporting her, squeezed her eyes shut, and moaned miserably, “Oh, fuuuu-”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Three hours had passed since Zoey had returned home to avoid facing Max – or the implications of the song she had just been compelled to sing – and she still couldn’t calm down. Every time she tried to sit on the couch to relax, she was on her feet again almost before she hit the seat. Whenever she tried to clear her mind, it seemed to have the opposite effect. Her mind was spinning, vacillating between wanting to analyze the deeper meaning of her most recent heartsong and wanting to avoid analyzing that song at all costs.</p><p>It was a love song. A <em>love song</em>. And she’d sung it because of <em>Max</em>. Wasn’t she supposed to be head over heels for Simon? Yes, she was. And Max was supposed to just be her best friend. But no matter how much she tried to convince herself that the deeper meaning of the song was “I won’t say I’m in love…platonically,” even she knew that was an absurd reach. No, she’d sung two heartsongs that day. Her song to Simon was about having a crush, and her song about Max was about being in denial about being in love. She was just going to have to deal with those two facts.</p><p>She couldn’t deal with those two facts.</p><p>So she was about to devolve into an even deeper mental spiral when she heard the door across the hall slam. The sound sent her off like a shot, racing across the hall to knock on Mo’s door, her taps almost frantic in their rapidity.</p><p>“What is going on?” Mo demanded mere seconds later as he threw open the door. “Is the building on fire? Because the building better be on fire if you -”</p><p>“My power’s making me sing now. I sang a heart song to Simon at work today, and then Max sang a song to try to help me, but then I sang a love song about him. About Max,” she blurted.</p><p>Mo’s irritation evaporated, and she couldn’t tell if he was sympathetic or just morbidly curious when he smiled and stepped back. “Please. Come on in.”</p><p>At his prompting, Zoey laid out the whole sordid story. She told him about her accident with the scooter, and how she’d sung a song to Max afterward. She told him about her hopes that it had been a one-time fluke. Then she hit him with everything that had happened earlier in the day – from the way she’d crawled up on Simon’s desk while she sang “Crush,” to Max’s enthusiastic rendition of a Queen classic.</p><p>“I was just going to go out to get some fresh air, but I was there on the elevator, thinking about Max, and…it happened again. Another song. A <em>love</em> song. What am I going to do?”</p><p>Zoey was panicking, but Mo merely sounded intrigued as he asked, “What was the song? Love songs aren’t always straightforward about their meanings, so maybe -”</p><p>“I think it’s called ‘I Won’t Say I’m in Love.’ At least, I assume that’s the title since I’m pretty sure I sang it a million times.”</p><p>“Okay, there’s really not a long of ambiguity to that one. I think it’s pretty clear what your heartsong is trying to tell you.”</p><p>Although she’d come to the same conclusion, that didn’t make it any easier to accept. “But it can’t! He’s my best friend!”</p><p>He wasn’t swayed by this logic. “Your head may think he’s your best friend, but your heart clearly has another idea. It’s possible that those songs of yours won’t go away until you get those on the same page.” While Zoey wracked her brains to come up with a convincing argument against this suggestion, Mo remarked, “That’s a Disney song, right? You know, it figures? You seem like the kind of girl who would have cartoon birds do your hair in the morning.”</p><p>“What is that supposed to mean?” she demanded, unsure if she should be flattered or insulted.</p><p>His answer didn’t exactly give her much clarity on that subject. “It means you’re a cartoon princess, and I am way too busy to clean up after the menagerie of talking animals that probably help you get dressed.”</p><p>“Can we get back to the point?” she asked in desperation.</p><p>He shrugged. “All right. I know you don’t want to admit it, but the two songs you sang today are perfectly clear. You have a crush on Simon, but you’re in love with Max. You’re just scared to admit it.”</p><p>“Of course I’m scared to admit it!” she admitted, collapsing onto Mo’s couch. “He’s my best friend, and my love life has historically been a complete disaster! What if things go wrong? What if I lose him? Which is actually getting way ahead of myself, because the real question is, what if he doesn’t even feel the same way about me to begin with? I could – oh no,” she broke off abruptly when she heard the first soft strains of a song begin to play in her mind.</p><p>Jumping to her feet, she sang loudly, <em>“Does he love me? I want to know.”</em></p><p>“Oh, I am <em>not </em>about to be your backup singer,” Mo grumbled, walking towards the other room.</p><p>As before, Zoey couldn’t stop herself from singing, so she continued, <em>“How can I tell if he loves me so? Is it in his eyes?”</em></p><p>Although he had protested his part to play in her unexpected encore, in her mind, Mo spun around and sang in return, <em>“Oh no, you’ll be deceived.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Is it in his eyes?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh no, you’ll make believe. If you want to know if he loves you so, it’s in his kiss. That’s where it is.”</em>
</p><p>Zoey shook her head and turned away from Mo, dancing to the other side of the room. <em>“Or is it in his face?” </em></p><p><em>“Oh no, it’s just his charm,” </em>he chided her.</p><p>
  <em>“In his warm embrace?”</em>
</p><p>She turned to see Mo shaking a finger at her. <em>“Oh no, that’s just his arm. If you want to know if he loves you so, it’s in his kiss. That’s where it is.” </em>Moving towards her, Mo wrapped his arms across his chest and seemed to relish his solo as he advised her, <em>“Kiss him, and squeeze him tight, and find out what you want to know. If it’s love, if it really is, it’s there in his kiss!”</em></p><p><em>“How ‘bout the way he acts?” </em>Zoey tried one last time, no less desperate in her song to deny the advice than she was in reality.</p><p>
  <em>“Oh no, that’s not the way! And you’re not listening to all I say. If you want to know if he loves you so, it’s in his kiss. That’s where it is. Oh yeah, it’s in his kiss. That’s where it is!”</em>
</p><p>The song finally ended, leaving Zoey to look at Mo in apologetic horror. A strained silence stretched between them, until he said, “Well, that was certainly…something.”</p><p>“Was it…were you singing too? I mean, were you compelled to sing, or -”</p><p>“Oh, no. That was all you. I suppose I should be glad that I was at least giving you good advice in the little musical number going on in your head. But don’t think I’m happy about being in a musical number I don’t even get to enjoy. I am not a backup singer. I’m the star of the show.” Although he was chastising her, his tone lacked any trace of anger.</p><p>“You realize I don’t -” she began to protest, but then she heard a sound out in the hall that caused her to jump.</p><p>Someone was knocking on her door across the hall, and a moment later, she heard Max’s voice. He sounded concerned when he called out, “Zoey? You didn’t come back to work, so I got worried. I just wanted to check and make sure you’re okay.”</p><p>“No, don’t!” she blurted, as Mo sped towards his front door to peer through the peephole. “Oh, I can see where your heart’s coming from. He’s even cuter than he was in his pictures! You should go out there and talk to him.”</p><p>“What?” Zoey blanched. “No! I couldn’t! Didn’t you hear what I’ve been telling you? I can’t face him until I figure out what’s going on with me!”</p><p>“I think your songs are pretty clear about what’s going on with you. Whether or not you want to listen is another story. And you’re going to have to face him eventually, unless you plan to hide in my apartment for the rest of your life,” he reminded her.</p><p>“Oh, can I?” Zoey asked eagerly, if a bit desperately.</p><p>Mo scowled. “I walked right into that one,” he mumbled to himself. “And no. You can’t. I’ve had sexual encounters that have lasted longer than our friendship, and I have too much going on in my life to deal with a tiny White girl who thinks lemonade is just a drink.”</p><p>“What else would it – wait, three days? You’re had sexual encounters that have lasted longer than <em>three days</em>?”</p><p>Mo took advantage of her shock, throwing open the door and shoving her into the hallway before she could find the wherewithal to fight back.</p><p>“Wait, I – Max! Heeeeeey!” Zoey greeted him with false cheer. “I didn’t hear you out here! I was just visiting Mo. My neighbor.” She gestured at the man behind her, like there could be any doubt as to whom she referred. “Um, Mo, this is Max. Max, Mo.” Mo gave him a friendly – if brief – wave before slamming the door in Zoey’s face, cutting off her means of escape.</p><p>Max didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. His attention was fully on Zoey. “Hey, is everything okay? I got worried when you didn’t come back to work.”</p><p>“Yeah,” she admitted. “I was still a little freaked out about everything that happened and decided I needed a little time to process everything.” Although she was a little afraid to be alone with him – scared of what might come out of her mouth – she knew they couldn’t stand in the hall together indefinitely. So, trying not to look at him, she moved around him to return to her apartment.</p><p>“Well, I can understand that,” he admitted, following her inside. “If it helps, I was chatting to Simon this afternoon, and I think he completely bought the story about the bet, so I don’t think you have to worry that things will be weird between the two of you.”</p><p>Scooting as far away from him as she could without being obvious about it, Zoey asked in a distracted voice, “What? Oh. Right. The song I sang to Simon. Uh, yeah, that’s great to hear!”</p><p>A crease formed between his brows as he looked at her in confusion. “Of course I was talking about Simon. What did you – did you have another heartsong?”</p><p>Biting her lip, she nodded her head slowly. She could hardly deny as much now. “Um…yeah. In the elevator when I was leaving work.”</p><p>“Oh. Who were you -?” he began.</p><p>She shook her head. “Nobody! I mean, other people were on the elevator with me, but I wasn’t singing to them. I think maybe the heartsongs can be triggered when I’m thinking about the person they’re about, not just when I’m with them.” Even as the words left her mouth, she realized they were the perfect cover for anything she might sing to him. Clutching onto that lifeline, she attempted a casual shrug as she said, “So, you know, if I ever do happen to sing a love song to you – I mean, in front of you – I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”</p><p>For just a second, she could swear his mouth twisted into a wry smile, but when she looked closer, his expression went totally blank. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. I know you only see me as a friend,” in an unreadable tone. If he meant that statement as one of regret or even condemnation, she couldn’t tell. While she repeated his words several times in her mind, trying to sort out any deeper meaning, he asked, “But wait. A love song? Your song to Simon was about having a crush on him, right? So who do you love?”</p><p>She hadn’t anticipated that question, and in retrospect, she really should have. “What?” she squeaked as her mind went completely blank. She scrambled to think of the name of a man – any man – that she could conceivably love, other than the one in front of her. Maybe her heartsongs were pressuring her to own up to her feelings for him, but the rest of her simply wasn’t ready to do that just yet. “Oh, um…Tobin,” she offered. It was the first name that came to mind, but she winced as soon as the word left her mouth. Oh, god, what had she done?</p><p>He couldn’t seem to believe it any more than she could. “Tobin? Tobin. You’re in love with <em>Tobin</em>? Tobin from work? That Tobin?”</p><p>“Oh, my god, can you stop saying Tobin?” she snapped, wishing she could bite back the ill-conceived lie. She’d thought the situation couldn’t get any worse, but she’d been wrong, and now she was scrambling to think of a way to dig herself out of the hole her mouth had just put her in.</p><p>“I’m not sure I can, to be honest. It’s just…Tobin. You’re in love with Tobin.” He gave his head a quick shake, like he it would help the mental pieces fall into place.</p><p>Feeling a little like she should come to the defense of her supposed love interest, Zoey protested, “Now, be fair! I know he can be a little bit…<em>much</em>, but I’m sure underneath it all, there’s a really great guy!”</p><p>Max gave a strange half-shrug, half-jerk of his head. “Oh, I’m sure he is! But have you forgotten he’s also guy who thought it would be hilarious to sign you up for a wet t-shirt contest the first week you worked together? That guy. <em>That Tobin</em>. You’re in love with him.” He kept repeating the words like he might make more sense out of them through repetition.</p><p>She shrugged, waving her hands about in the air. It was more of a helpless flail than a gesture that conveyed any meaning. “You see why I don’t can’t let anyone know about this?” she asked. “Now, do you want to help me figure out a way to deal with this, or do you just want to keep judging me?”</p><p>“I mean, I was kinda planning to do both!”</p><p>She huffed. “You know what? Forget about it. I shouldn’t have mentioned anything.”</p><p>Before she could storm away to lick her wounds in private, he grabbed her wrist, gently pulling her to a halt. His voice was soft when he said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t tease. I’m sure this isn’t easy for you. I was just surprised, that’s all. How can I help?”</p><p>Though she’d been embarrassed – and even a little annoyed – a few moments before, his nearness made her mouth go dry, and her heart started to race. “I-I don’t know,” she whispered. What were they even talking about again? More from self-preservation than from desire, she pulled her wrist out of his grip and took a step back. Maybe with a little distance, she could get her stupid heart under control. Not that it had helped a few minutes before.</p><p>Crossing his arms over his chest, Max rocked back on his heels. “All right, well,” he said slowly. “I assume you’ve tried leaving the room when you feel a song coming on.”</p><p>She nodded. “I have zero control. I’ve tried. Believe me. But once I start hearing the music, it’s like my whole body is taken over, and even if I try to run away, I find myself just coming right back until the song is done.”</p><p>He frowned, dropping his gaze to the ground as he mulled over her words. “Okay, well…have you tried doing something to distract yourself? Those first few seconds, when you feel a song coming on. Have you tried to give yourself a shock to your system? Like scaring the hiccups away.”</p><p>“Not really,” she admitted. “I’m not even sure what I would do. Let alone if it would work. And I don’t want to go on hope and find out when I’m halfway through a song to Joan that it doesn’t.”</p><p>Max threw her a wry smile. “I guess that makes sense. Maybe we can test it out. Start singing, and I’ll see if I can distract you.”</p><p>Zoey let out a surprised laugh. “Max! It doesn’t work like that! I can’t just make it happen, you know!”</p><p>“I know,” he admitted sheepishly. “But you said you don’t have to be with the person they’re about to trigger your songs. So, I don’t know. Think about how much you love Tobin and see what happens.”</p><p>She looked away so he wouldn’t see her wince when he mentioned Tobin’s name. She had a feeling it wouldn’t take much for her to burst out into another love song, not with Max standing so close and looking at her the way he was. But she’d made her bed, and she had to lay in it. And her sheets may have had Max’s name written all over them, but he couldn’t know that. Maybe this metaphor was getting out of hand.</p><p>Sucking in a deep breath, she forced herself to meet his gaze and willed a song to come. When nothing happened for several seconds, she decided to fill the time by asking, “So, um, what are you going to do? To surprise me, I mean?”</p><p>“If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise,” he pointed out, a trace of laughter in his voice.</p><p>She rolled her eyes at him. “I mean, what kinds of things might you do? So I can get ideas for what I can do to myself if you’re not around the next time it happens.”</p><p>He threw her a skeptical look. “I don’t know, Zo. It kinda sounds like you’re trying to cheat, to me. But if you really want to know, I wasn’t sure yet. I was thinking I could try tickling you. Or making a loud noise. Or -”</p><p>“Or you could kiss me,” she blurted.</p><p>“Or I could – wait, what?” His train of thought came to an abrupt end, and he stared at her with wide eyes.</p><p>“Surprise!” she offered weakly.</p><p>He blew out a long breath. “Okay, sure. But it’s not exactly something you can do to stop yourself from singing when I’m not around.”</p><p>It wasn’t a rejection, and though he had been thrown by her suggestion, he wasn’t making a break for the door. Was he actually considering it? Just the thought of kissing Max made her heart start to race again, and she fought to keep her breathing steady. What would it be like, she wondered, to feel his lips against hers? Would kissing him break whatever spell he had over her, or would it make her current predicament so much worse?</p><p>She didn’t realize she was staring at his lips until she saw them form her name. “Zoey?”</p><p>“But this is just a test, right?” she said, in response to his previous point. “Before we bother figuring out what I can do, we should probably find out if doing anything would work, right?” Standing here with him, talking about this, it made her start to lose her nerve, and she took a half step back. “Look, I get it. If you’d prefer, we can try to think of something else. I just thought -”</p><p>“No, it’s okay,” he said firmly, as though he’d just come a decision. Moving forward, he reached for her and said, “It was just a surprise. Which I guess is the point, so it’s a good idea. We should try.” With his hands on her shoulders, he was holding her an arm’s length away, so he relaxed his arms, lowering them gingerly to her waist. “You see if you can trigger one of your songs, and I’ll…I’ll just…I’ll kiss you. No big deal, right?”</p><p>“Right,” she agreed. But it <em>felt</em> like a big deal, so after another moment, she offered meekly, “Um, maybe we should, you know, do a test run first.” Before he could misconstrue – or, actually, construe entirely accurately – her remark, she rushed to explain, “It’s just that now I’m a little nervous about it. I mean, we’ve never kissed before. And we’re friends. Thinking about all that is just getting into my head and it’s making it really hard for me to think about, you know, anything else. So I can’t really get into the right head space for a song, and -”</p><p>“And, yeah, that makes sense,” he agreed, waving one hand in a futile gesture. “Okay, sure. We just…we just need to kiss. As a test run. No big deal.” It was his second time saying that, and if he went for a third, she was going to have to throttle him. It didn’t mean anything to him, but she had two entire song and dance numbers from earlier that day to make her realize it was very much a big deal to her.</p><p>“Yeah, it’s no big deal,” she lied. “It’s just a kiss. No need to overthink it. Just…your lips on my lips.”</p><p>A little tension ebbed from his face as he grinned. “I know what a kiss is, Zo,” he teased her gently.</p><p>She forced a smile in response. “I know! I was just wondering, you know…are we talking, like, open mouths, or -”</p><p>He looked at her in disbelief. “You want a specific play-by-play of how this is gonna go?”</p><p>“No! I just – I don’t know how you normally kiss, and just…whatever feels natural to you is fine, but I don’t wanna have my mouth all open if you were thinking lips closed. That would just be weird, and -”</p><p>“Because this entire situation is otherwise completely normal and not at all weird,” he pointed out, amused.</p><p>Sucking in a deep, steadying breath, she tried to get herself under control and whispered, “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just nervous.”</p><p>Max nodded and said in a low voice, “I know. It’s okay. Maybe just…close your eyes.” Her hands fluttering to rest gently against his chest, she did as he directed. Then she waited, her breath catching in her throat as she tilted her head back, expecting to feel his mouth against hers.</p><p>For a long moment, nothing happened. He didn’t move away, but he didn’t move closer, either. Just when she was about to give up, open her eyes and step away, try to resolve herself to the knowledge that he wasn’t even interested in kissing her, let alone more, she felt him lean down to press his lips against hers.</p><p>His mouth was warm, lips slightly parted, and she gasped at the contact. Though she longed to sway towards him, to melt into his chest and wrap her arms around his neck, she forced herself to remain utterly still. The kiss was soft, almost tentative, at first, their mouths brushing lightly against each other. But then the kiss changed. Max tilted his head to a slightly different angle, sweeping his tongue against her lower lip as he deepened the kiss.</p><p>She could tell he wanted to pull her in, but he didn’t. Perhaps he felt, as she did, that it would be too dangerous. She didn’t know that she could press against his chest and leave things at a simple kiss. Well, maybe not so simple. Their bodies remained still, but their mouths were ravenous as they kissed each other again and again, each one deeper than the last.</p><p>Zoey thought she could have kissed him forever, but then she moaned deep in her throat and the sound seemed to break the spell over him because he froze. With one more soft kiss, he straightened.</p><p>His chest heaved under her palms with the heaviness of his breathing, and she could feel his heart race, but his voice was calm when he asked, “Well? What do you think?”</p><p>What did she think? She blinked up at him, still trying to clear the fogginess from her brain. She thought she was in a lot of trouble, because if there was one thing that kiss had done, it was to make her confront her feelings for him – complicated, messy, certainly inconvenient as they were, given that he was her best friend. She was in love with Max. Her best friend. Who might have enjoyed kissing her, but she had no reason to suspect he wanted anything more.</p><p>So what the hell was she going to do now?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Max was not having a good day. He was distracted, unable to focus on work, but equally as incapable of showing his preoccupation. The problem was, every time he tried to turn his attention back to work, his gaze would stray back to Zoey, sitting at her desk. More often than not, he’d catch her looking at him, seemingly lost in thought, her eyes unfocused and distant. Every time their eyes met, she flushed and looked away, leaving him wondering what she was thinking.</p><p>Could she be thinking about their kiss? The absolutely amazing, mind-blowing kiss they’d shared? He knew that it had meant nothing to her – just a possible means of distraction from her inconvenient superpowers – but it had meant everything to him. From the moment she first told him about her powers, he’d been worried she’d figure out his secret.</p><p>He was hopelessly, helplessly, in love with her.</p><p>So far, she seemed oblivious, which was probably for the best. Particularly since she was apparently torn between two men at the moment, and he wasn’t one of them. She was attracted to Simon and in love with Tobin. As for Max? He was her friend and nothing more. Which was pretty inconvenient, since he couldn’t get through a day without thinking about how much he loved her, even before the kiss. Now that they’d kissed, he could hardly get her out of his mind.</p><p>What was he going to do?</p><p>His attention was drawn back to Tobin, chatting at his side. He was talking about Zoey, causing Max to clench his teeth and try to tune the other man out. It would have been hard enough if he talked about Zoey as she actually was. Max told himself he wouldn’t be so jealous if he heard Tobin talk about how amazing she was. If he spoke about her intelligence and drive. How good she was at her job, or how breathtakingly beautiful she was even after spending a long day squinting at a computer screen. If he talked about her sense of humor or her unexpected sweetness. Or even how awkward she could be at the most inconvenient times and how that somehow made her even more adorable and charming.</p><p>But Tobin never talked about any of that and certainly wasn’t now. Instead, he was joking about Zoey was probably going to Joan about “chick stuff,” using the fact they both had periods to try to land the promotion and get ahead. Max knew that Tobin was best friends with Leif, who was also up for the promotion, and he’d made no secret of the fact he was “bros before hoes.” But that didn’t make it any easier for Max to listen to his jokes about Zoey, particularly knowing the way she felt about him.</p><p>“I think she just came out Joan’s office. You know they were probably in there doing each other’s nails and -” Tobin was mid-sentence when Max made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat and jumped to his feet.</p><p>“Dude, what is your <em>problem</em>?” he snapped. “How can you talk about her like that when –” his voice trailed off, and he shook his head. “You’re the luckiest guy on the <em>planet</em>, and you don’t even know it,” he growled in disgust, storming away. He had to get away from Tobin for a while. Clear his head. Before he said something he’d regret. He was jealous, and he knew it. Just like he knew he didn’t really have any right to feel that way. But no matter how strong his feelings, he couldn’t afford to show them. Not his jealousy, and certainly not his love. It was pretty clear to him that Zoey was interested in neither.</p><p>He was on his way to the restroom, needing a few minutes to himself, to collect his thoughts and get his emotions under control. But then he saw her in front of him, walking down the hallway leading to the restrooms. Her face was taut with stress, and the sight drove his own thoughts of retreat out of his mind.</p><p>He told himself he was just concerned about her, as any friend would be. After their kiss the night before, she’d tried to force a heartsong but to no avail. They still didn’t know if she could be distracted from bursting into song at an inopportune time. And it was possible she was looking stressed because she’d done just that, in which case she’d need a friend to lean on. And possibly assist with some damage control. So it was just friendship that propelled him to follow her. It wasn’t because he loved her so much, he ached to be in her presence.</p><p>When he moved quietly around the corner, he found her leaning against the wall, her eyes squeezed shut as she sucked in a few deep breaths. Maybe this wasn’t the time to talk to her. Was he intruding? Did she want to be alone? He turned to leave without saying a word, but then he heard her speak, his name a soft question on her lips. “Max?”</p><p>Forcing a smile and schooling his features in an effort to keep his feelings hidden, he turned to face her once more. “Hey. Sorry to bother you. I just…you looked upset, and I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Her soft smile seemed to be an invitation, so he scooted next to her, leaning against the wall at her side. “You didn’t sing another heartsong, did you?” She had her lips pressed tight together as she shook her head, and he wondered if the waiting might be even worse. Wondering what would trigger it. Who she’d be signing to. If there was any way to stop it.</p><p>She turned to look at him, her eyes still wide and sad, and he threw her an encouraging smile. “You know, I was just talking to Tobin, and he…” He’d wanted to take her mind off whatever was bothering her, but he let his voice trail off, realizing a moment too late that he didn’t necessarily want to tell her about his conversation with Tobin.</p><p>
  <em>“I’m tugging at my hair, I’m pulling at my clothes. I’m trying to keep my cool, I know it shows. I’m staring at my feet, my cheeks are turning red. I’m searching for the words inside my head. I’m feeling nervous. Trying to be so perfect. ‘Cause I know you’re worth it. You’re worth it. Yeah.”</em>
</p><p>Although he knew about Zoey’s powers and her recent musical outbursts, he was still so surprised when she started to sing that he found himself unable to move for a long moment. She was singing, and he knew she had to be thinking of Tobin – he’d just mentioned the man she loved, after all – but it felt like she was singing to him. It was selfish, he knew, but he wished he could hold onto this feeling. The feeling that he was the man she loved.</p><p>He knew what he was supposed to do. He was supposed to kiss her. Try to snap her out of her song. But now that the moment had arrived, he was reluctant. What if she’d changed her mind? What if she wouldn’t want him to kiss her? It didn’t seem right to force a kiss on her she didn’t want, even with the best of intentions. Or was he just justifying his desire for her to keep singing so he could maintain the fiction that her song was for him?</p><p>Pivoting on one foot, she pressed one hand against his chest, leaning in as she continued, <em>“If I could say what I want to say, I’d say I want to blow you away. Be with you every night. Am I squeezing you too tight? If I could say what I want to see? I want to see you go down on one knee. Marry me today. Guess I’m wishing my life away. With these things I’ll never say.”</em></p><p>But if she wanted him to kiss her, would she be angry that he hadn’t tried? Would she feel embarrassed that her power had caused her to sing again, even if it was just to him and she knew he would understand? He imagined it would be worse if Tobin walked in on them and she revealed her feelings to him. Pushing off his chest with a smile, she backed towards the hallway, as though she intended to head back to her desk. Or to Tobin. The thought filled him with alarm.</p><p>
  <em>“It don’t do me any good. It’s just a waste of time. What use is it to you what’s on my mind? If it ain’t coming out, we’re not going anywhere. So why can’t I just tell you that I care? ‘Cause I’m feeling nervous. Trying to be so perfect. “Cause I know you’re worth it. You’re worth it.”</em>
</p><p>“Zoey, wait,” he blurted, stepping forward and reaching for her. Wrapping his hands gently around her upper arms, he pulled her, intending to give her a kiss. But just before their lips met, she spun in his arms. Pressing back against him, she lifted one hand to wrap it behind his neck so she could hold him close. <em>“If I could say what I want to say, I’d say I want to blow you away. Be with you every night. Am I squeezing you too tight? If I could say what I want to see, I want to see -”</em></p><p>He couldn’t take it anymore. He certainly didn’t want to hear her sing that she wanted to <em>marry</em> him. Well, Tobin. God, it was worse than he’d thought. Grabbing her waist, he spun her around again and tried to kiss her. She ducked her head to the side, avoiding his lips as she continued, <em>“– you go down on one knee. Marry me today. Guess I’m wishing my life away. With these things I’ll never say.”</em></p><p>If he was going to kiss her like he promised he would, it had to be now. Cupping her face in his palms, he brought his lips down to hers, swallowing her song. As soon as their lips met, she sighed into his mouth and melted against him, her arms wrapping around his waist. But even though he knew she was probably done singing, he kept kissing her, sucking her lower lip into his mouth to suck on it gently.</p><p>He should stop kissing her, he knew, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Even as his hands dropped to his sides, telling himself to pull away from her, he pressed his lips against hers in another kiss. And then another. Finally he stopped, resting his forehead against her own.</p><p>“I-I can’t believe I just did that. I can’t believe I just sang again,” she moaned miserably.</p><p>“It’s okay,” he reassured her. “It’s just me.” And the good news was, it seemed maybe she could be distracted from her song. Although he wondered how many more times he could kiss her as a distraction without shattering his own heart. Closing his eyes, he breathed, “You really have it bad for him, huh?” Hoping she couldn’t see how much even saying the words twisted in his gut like a knife. Wishing he could be brave enough to ask her what she saw in Tobin, anyway, but knowing he didn’t dare.</p><p>“Who?” she gasped, sounding mildly alarmed. “Oh, right. Tobin.” She leaned back, pulling away from him until several feet separated him. “I-I’m not – I can’t get…get <em>him</em> out of my head. I keep thinking about his lips and his…and his hands. About kissing him – I mean, what it <em>would </em>be like to kiss him…” Well, <em>that</em> was more information than he needed. Ever.</p><p>She grimaced, her voice raising as she blurted, “Maybe it’s just a physical thing? I was talking to Mo this morning about my, um, preoccupation. He suggested it’s just been too long since I’ve had sex and I could be confusing lust and pheromones with something more. Maybe we should just sleep together to see if it helps.” She blushed, her eyes going wide in horror. “Tobin, I mean! I meant Tobin. Of course.”</p><p>“Of course,” he agreed quickly, trying hard to push the mental image of the two of them out of his mind.</p><p>Her smile was nervous, and she continued to speak a little too quickly, rambling, “Although to be honest, I’m not sure if he was joking or being serious. Anyway, it’s not like I could actually do what he suggested without…you know. Complicating everything. And imagine what would happen if it didn’t work out? I could lose, um, work. I mean, things at work would be a nightmare. Right?”</p><p>He nodded, tilting his head away so she couldn’t see the look on his face as he parroted, “Right.” Then, in an effort to deflect from his own feelings, he moved back against the wall, leaning against it as he crossed his arms over his chest to resist the temptation to reach for her. Although she hesitated, she eventually joined him, pressing her back against the solid surface as she stared straight ahead. The two of them clinging to the wall like it was neutral ground, refusing to discuss the kiss they’d just shared. He couldn’t find the words to speak, to tell her how he felt, and he suspected she was lost in thoughts of Tobin.</p><p>The silence was oppressive, so he offered, “Too bad you couldn’t just sleep with him a couple times to know one way or another if those feelings went away. If it really was just your heart or – uh – something physical, I mean.”</p><p>Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her squirm, but she didn’t move away. “But if it is just a physical thing, and I just need to have sex to get it all out of my system, it wouldn’t have to be with Tobin, would it?”</p><p>“Probably not,” he admitted slowly, wondering how the hell he’d gotten himself into this conversation. He’d been trying to <em>avoid</em> the idea of Zoey with another man. Not dwell on it further. But he couldn’t think of a way to change the subject without making her suspicious, so he added, “You could probably pick just about anyone if you just wanted to do a friends with benefits thing for a while and see if it would do the trick. If Mo is right, I mean. It’s too bad Simon is engaged. That would have been perfect. For you, I mean.” Not that he liked the idea of Simon and Zoey together any more than he liked the idea of Tobin and Zoey together. Though to be fair, he didn’t like the idea of Zoey with anyone besides him. Not like <em>that</em> would ever happen. And at least by moving the topic to Simon, she would have to reason to suspect his true feelings – about her or about the kisses they had shared.</p><p>She made a soft, frustrated sound, but she didn’t look at him. “Right. He’s clearly off the table. But you’re wrong that I could pick just <em>anyone</em>. I think there’d have to be <em>some </em>restrictions. For example, if I’m doing a friends with benefits thing, it probably helps if we’re actually friends.”</p><p>He rocked his head back and forth slightly, acknowledging her point. “And it would probably help if you had <em>some</em> level of physical attraction for them.”</p><p>“They have to be single,” she added. “Ideally not someone who’s terrible in bed.”</p><p>“And if you’re going to do this with a friend, you have to be absolutely certain that you’re on the same page and your friendship is solid. You don’t want to lose them when it’s all over, right?”</p><p>“Oh, definitely,” she agreed readily. “That’s very important.” A strained silence stretched between them as she seemed to mull over his suggestion and he tried to think about anything else. “You know, I do have kind of a wild thought.”</p><p>He tried to hide his wince. He’d been trying to think of a way to change the subject, but he clearly hadn’t been fast enough. “Is it Leif? Because he might be more discrete than Tobin, but I’m not sure he -”</p><p>Turning to face him finally, Zoey said softly. “No. What about you?”</p><p>Max choked on air. Was it actually <em>possible</em> to choke on air? He’d never thought it was before, processing air being more or less the sole reason that the lungs existed. And yet, there he was. Without a single drink or piece of food in his mouth. Still choking and gasping for breath. “I – you – that’s not – wh-what?” he finally managed, his head whipping toward her.</p><p>She looked uncertain. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but you gotta admit…it’s kind of a perfect solution, isn’t it?” Holding up her fingers, she started to tick off items from the list they’d just made. “We’re friends. If our kiss – um, <em>kisses</em> are any indication, sex between us wouldn’t be <em>terrible</em>. We both know what this would be and why I need to do it. What if all of my heartsongs are just my body’s way of telling me I need to work through this, um, lull I’ve been in? And we’re both way too good of friends to want to lose sight of that when it’s all over. It makes sense, right?”</p><p>It did, but that didn’t mean he could deal with it. Friends with benefits? With <em>Zoey</em>? He hadn’t even been able to even get through a couple of kisses with his heart intact. She might just want to see if it would help get Tobin out of her system, but he wasn’t sure that he could do it without wanting more. Without wanting her to love him the way he loved her. “I – um – well, yes, but I-I’m not sure…”</p><p>“You’ve never thought about having sex with me,” she finished for him, the words more a statement than a question.</p><p><em>Was she kidding?</em> He’d thought about it so much that day alone, he’d been afraid of moving away from his desk for much of the day, in case other people noticed the state just thinking about her put him in! Though he could hardly tell her that, especially since their kisses made it so much worse. Instead, he offered weakly, “It’s – it’s not that. I just…it’s a lot to…I just want…it’s a lot to process. This is kinda the last thing I expected when I walked in here today.” Or any day, really, but she didn’t need to know that.</p><p>Zoey jerked her head up and down, less like a casual nod and more like a blushing bobble-head doll. “Oh, yeah! Of course! I understand! We should, um, talk about this later, right? Maybe tonight? I was going to go see my parents after work, but I could stop by your place after to talk. If you want. No pressure or anything.”</p><p>“Yeah,” he agreed quickly. “That sounds great.” Which wasn’t strictly speaking true. He really wasn’t sure how it sounded. Great? Like living torture? He probably wouldn’t know until he’d had a chance to process what had just happened, and four hours wasn’t going to be enough. Four <em>years</em> probably wouldn’t be enough.</p><p>One thing was for sure. Any hope he’d entertained that he might be able to focus on work over the next few hours was shot to hell.</p><p>He didn’t know how he made it through the rest of the day. The afternoon was a blur, with Max able to think of nothing but Zoey. Her body pressed against his, soft and warm. The taste of her kiss. His desire for something more between them, and the invitation she’d offered that could give him just that…except that deep down, he wondered if it would leave him with something less.</p><p>Could he really do as she suggested? Could he hold her in his arms and remember that they would still only ever be friends? He tried to tell himself he could, but he knew it was a lie. He could barely do so after just a couple of kisses. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life, and that was why he knew he had to tell her no.</p><p>He held that resolution in mind as he walked to the door upon hearing her knock. He could do this. He could tell her that their friendship was too important to him, and he didn’t want to risk it or complicate matters by adding sex to the mix. Or more kisses. The kisses also had to stop. He could sympathize with her need for a distraction to cut off her heartsongs, but his heart couldn’t take the lie of them.</p><p>Max forced a smile as he threw open the door, stepping back so she could move past him into his apartment. Her features were drawn, her eyes filled with worry, as she shifted her weight back and forth in an unconscious display of nerves. Getting straight to the point, she said in a voice that was firm, even if it shook just a little, “Listen, about earlier. I shouldn’t have sprung this on you like that. I wasn’t thinking.”</p><p>“Oh,” he said softly, feeling strangely deflated. Which was ridiculous, because he’d already decided he would turn her down. “You don’t want to do a friends with benefits thing anymore?”</p><p>“You do?” she breathed, sounding amazed and uncertain.</p><p>Lifting one hand to the back of his neck, he tried to rub some tension out of his muscles as he opened his mouth to respond, sure he was about to tell her that he had decided against it. Instead, he said, “I don’t want to be a placeholder for Tobin,” he admitted. “I don’t want to be with you if you’re going to be thinking of him the whole time.”</p><p>Zoey gasped. “I haven’t! I mean, I wouldn’t!” she reassured him quickly, stepping forward and pressing her hands against his chest. Then, as though reconsidering her decision to stand so close, she pulled her hands back, resting them on her stomach instead. She rocked her weight back on her heels but didn’t step away as she said in a low voice, “I suggested we, um, you know, that we do <em>this</em> because I want to be with you. I-I mean I want to do this with you. This has nothing to do with Tobin.”</p><p>He appreciated her words, but he should still turn her down and he knew it. “And if we did do this, if we took our friendship to the next level, promise me that you wouldn’t regret it. That we would still be friends when it ended. I don’t want to lose you, Zo.”</p><p>“I don’t want to lose you, either,” she admitted with a shaky smile. “You’re my best friend and one of the most important people in the world to me. Nothing that could happen between us could ever change that. I promise.”</p><p>It was his last chance, and he knew it. This was a turning point in their relationship. If he said no, things could go back to the way they’d been, but he’d always wonder what it would feel like to hold her in his arms. If he said yes, he could pretend she was his for a little while, and the only price he would pay for the privilege was his heart.</p><p>Was there really any question what he would do? He’d been fooling himself if he’d really thought he could ever turn her down.</p><p>His hands trembled as he reached for her, moving slowly in case she changed her mind. But when he put his hands on her waist, she leaned in rather than pull away. “You’re sure?” he asked one more time.</p><p>“I’m sure,” she replied, all trace of doubt gone from her voice as she placed her hands on his shoulders.</p><p>Before he could second-guess himself, he lifted her, moaning when her legs wrapped tight around his waist. Supporting her with one arm, he curled one hand behind her neck as she crushed her lips to his.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zoey couldn’t believe she’d actually suggested to Max that he could be her <em>friend with benefits</em>. She certainly hadn’t started the conversation with that intention. But all day, she’d been distracted by him. She’d caught herself staring off into space, thinking about the kiss they’d shared and imagining what his hands would feel like on her body.</p><p>How had this happened to her? Just a few days before, she would have sworn Max was her best friend and that was <em>it</em>. She’d never found herself distracted by his smile before or daydreamed about sucking his lower lip between her teeth. This all started with her scooter accident. Or, if she was being more honest, it probably all started when she saw his shirtless chest after the accident. That had led to her first heartsong to him, which had led to her heartsong about being in denial about her feelings for him. Which had led her to that first, impetuous suggestion that they kiss. Which had led to a preoccupation with his lips and his hands that was frankly unhealthy.</p><p>At one point earlier in the day, she’d found herself distracted by his wrists. His <em>wrists</em>, for crying out loud! Surely that couldn’t be normal.</p><p>So, in a bid to regain her composure and a semblance of control over both her hormones and a creativity of imagination she’d have once sworn she didn’t possess, she’d ducked into the hallway to find some peace and quiet. And of course, because the universe apparently had it out for her or something, Max had followed, interrupting her before she could regain either. And so she could hardly be blamed for throwing her composure and self-control out the window with both hands.</p><p>Not that she could entirely regret her impulsive suggestion, given the result. Max’s mouth was against hers, his hands on her body, and <em>oh, god</em>. <em>It was even better than she’d remembered and far better than she’d imagined</em>. In the back of her mind, she knew they were treading on dangerous ground. This could all end badly, and then she’d lose him. She couldn’t bear even the thought, so she tried to push it out of her mind.</p><p><em>Just this once</em>, she promised herself as he carried her towards his bedroom without breaking off the kiss. They would spend this one night together and then surely, <em>surely</em>, her heartsongs would leave her in peace and the two of them could go back to being friends. Because it was better to be his friend than to try for something more and lose everything. Just one night, and things could go back to what they had been, less than a week before.</p><p>She swallowed his laugh when she arched against him, causing him to stumble and almost bringing them to the floor, but she didn’t let it stop her. Whatever reason he had for agreeing to her absurd suggestion, he seemed equally as reluctant to let her go, and she chose to see that as an encouraging sign. One day, she’d look back and recognize it as a red flag, suggesting Max wasn’t as nonchalant about a no-strings-attached sexual relationship as she pretended to be. But this wasn’t that day, so she didn’t give it a second thought as they stepped over the threshold into his bedroom. As though stepping through a portal into another world, or reaching some point of no return, something unidentifiable changed between them in that moment. Their kisses grew more fervent, their mouths more demanding.</p><p>Max tore her sweater over her head, and she squirmed out of his arms so she could shove him back against the bed. He reached for her as he fell, dragging her down on top of them, and the two of them rolled over as they tore at each other’s clothing. Their mouths were demanding, their hands greedy as they tried to touch everything at once. Max unbuttoned her pants with one smooth gesture and started to pull them down before getting distracted, ducking his head go press a hot kiss against the hard ridge of her hip as it was bared by his efforts. Zoey pushed herself into a sitting position, tearing his shirt over his head and grabbing at his arms before the discarded item of clothing even hit the ground.</p><p>She felt his lips curve against her mouth, though his words were muffled by her kiss as he suggested. “Maybe we should take this slow.”</p><p>“Not this time,” she gasped as his pants fell to the floor, and he kicked them aside to lay in a heap near the door. He was naked, and she wanted to look at him, to run her hands over every inch of his body, but that would mean breaking off the kiss. That sacrifice seemed almost too much to be borne, so she pulled him onto the bed and then turned, rolling him onto his back so she could straddle his waist. It didn’t even occur to her that her heart had betrayed her mind, those three little words belying any suggestion that one night would be enough.</p><p>She reached for him, but he tried to pull away. “Wait,” he breathed, sweeping his arm out in a desperate grab for his nightstand.</p><p>Zoey shook her head, too impatient to wait. “It’s okay. I’m on the pill,” she reassured him when she realized his intent. He relaxed beneath her until, lifting her weight onto her knees, she slid her hand between her thighs hand wrapped them gently around his penis, eager to guide him inside her. But at the feel of him, she paused, unable to quell the urge to stroke her hand slowly along his length, testing the weight and the feel of it. She heard his breath catch in his throat, and her eyes flew to his. He was staring at her, his eyes sweeping down her body, until he finally breathed, “God, Zoey. You’re so beautiful.”</p><p>At his words, she felt a blush creep across her chest, up her neck, to her face, and she scraped her teeth across her lower lip. It was a strange thing, getting nonplussed by a simple compliment when she held his cock in her hand. What was worse was that he would see it, would know that his words had confused and embarrassed her in a way that they never would have before.</p><p>She didn’t want him to think about what that meant; she didn’t want to even think about it herself. So, before he could say anything else – or even think about what he had already said – she sank on to him, letting out a gasp as he filled her. Her fingers danced across his chest and down his arms, stroking everything they could reach as she rolled her hips, and she grinned victoriously when the move elicited a groan of pleasure from deep in his throat.</p><p>He grabbed for her hips, trying to slow her rhythm, silently encouraging her to take it slow. His mouth explored what parts of her it could reach, trailing kisses along her shoulder and across her chest. He leaned her back so he could tongue her breasts, sucking each nipple between his teeth as she arched against him.</p><p>But Zoey couldn’t stop, and she didn’t dare slow down. There was part of her that worried that her heart would betray her if they moved at a more leisurely pace, if they took the time to explore each other’s bodies. Without any control over her heartsongs, she couldn’t predict when they would hit or what they would be. What if she sang a love song to him now, when he was moving inside her? She doubted she’d be able to deflect that, even with more lies about nonexistent feelings for Tobin. She didn’t dare take the risk.</p><p>So, instead, she pressed her mouth against his, sucking his tongue between her lips, as she increased the pace. “Harder,” she demanded as the kiss broke off, moving even faster against him until she felt him tense, his body trembling beneath hers. Digging her fingers into the corded muscles of his shoulders, she rode him until her own orgasm swept over her, leaving her panting as she sprawled out across is chest.</p><p>If her compulsion to sing heartsongs had started at seeing his bare chest, maybe it would end after this night with him. She could only hope.</p><p>A short while later, when her heart was no longer racing and her breathing had slowed, she found the two of them lying on their sides, the silence between them comfortable, though it was filled with all the things they didn’t dare say. Max’s fingers drew idle patterns on her bare hip. The expression is his eyes was warm as she smiled down at her, finally breaking the silence by admitting, “Well, this certainly isn’t the way I expected this day to go.”</p><p>“Do you regret it?” she asked softly.</p><p>“No. Do you?”</p><p>Zoey shook her head, although she wasn’t entirely sure she didn’t. At least, she knew she <em>should</em> regret it. As much as they swore things wouldn’t change between them, she wasn’t so foolish that she didn’t recognize that they would. They already had. She’d always remember what it felt like to have Max inside of her, and she feared part of her would always want more.</p><p>But the look of relief on his face prevented her from speaking her fears aloud, and she didn’t stop him when he cupped his hand under her thigh, pulling her leg over his hip. “Although I always thought our first time wouldn’t be quite so rushed,” he admitted in a low murmur, sliding his hand between her thighs to tease her curls.</p><p>“So you thought about us having sex before?” she asked through ragged breaths as she pressed herself against him, silently pleading for him to enter her with his fingers.</p><p>His hand froze at her question for two heartbeats, until he admitted, “Well, I mean…earlier today. After our conversation in the hall, it was kinda hard to get the thought out of my head.”</p><p>She let out a shaky laugh, but before she could ask any more questions, he slid his fingers inside her, stroking her slowly. Expertly. With his other hand, he teased her breasts. She moaned in pleasure, and he grinned at the sound. She never would have guessed he’d be so good with his hands, she marveled as he slid two inside her, pressing his thumb against her clit as she rocked against him. How were they ever going to be able to go back to being just friends, when she’d never be able to forget how good he was with his hands?</p><p>She felt him grow hard again against her inner thigh, but when she pressed against him, he shifted away. But still, his hand was unrelenting, moving in and out of her in a steady rhythm that left her begging for more. Throwing her head back, Zoey’s eyes drifted closed as another orgasm swept over her. It was when she was still trembling and panting for air that he slid inside her, pressing into her once, twice, as his thumb slid around her clit, bringing her to orgasm again.</p><p>By the time they finished and he’d poured himself into her a second time, Zoey was exhausted, her body spent. She felt her eyes drift shut as Max wrapped her in his arms, drawing her close to press a soft kiss against her forehead.</p><p>But still, she found she couldn’t drift off to sleep. Her body was sated by their lovemaking, leaving her brain plenty of opportunity to make up for lost time as it dwelled on the thoughts and fears she’d been trying so hard to ignore. What did their night of lovemaking mean for the two of them? Would they ever really be able to return to being friends and nothing more when this was done? She’d been selfish, to suggest the two of them engage in a no-strings-attached relationship to begin with. Particularly since it was motivated in part by a desire to stop the heartsongs that plagued her. Would her selfishness hurt him, in the end?</p><p>Or would she remain the only one to be in love, and the only person she really stood to hurt was herself? She couldn’t bear the thought of hurting him, but thinking about loving him and not having that love returned? The thought of that felt like it would kill her.</p><p>As the minutes ticked by, each question deepened the ache in her heart. If she was being totally honest with herself, she couldn’t really regret what they had done. But she wondered if she should. Or, perhaps worse, that she would come to do so. In the faint light spilling through the windows, she dared peek a look at his face, relaxed in sleep. His heartbeat was steady beneath her hand, his breath even. His face was so precious to her, she wanted to trace its lines with her fingers but didn’t dare, lest she wake him up with her touch.</p><p>Instead, she caught her breath, she slowly inched away, careful not to disturb him as she slid out from under his arm. He made a soft sound of protest, instinctively tightening his hold on her in his sleep, but she waited until he’d relaxed again to continue her cautious retreat.</p><p>Once she was free, she dropped silently to the ground, crawling around to gather her clothes and pull them on in the darkness. Then she made her way into the other room, trying to remain as silent as she could as she slipped through his front door, breathing a small sigh of relief when she heard the soft click of the latch behind her.</p><p>As much as she’d wanted to stay, she told herself she was doing the right thing as she headed back to her apartment alone. He might be confused when he woke up and found himself alone, but it was better this way. The longer she stayed, the more she risked hurting him, and the more she risked breaking her own heart.</p><p>Of course, she could explain neither concern to him. So if he asked why she’d left so early, she’d use work as an excuse.</p><p>At least, she could have done so if she didn’t spend the entirety of the next day avoiding him at the office.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was amazing how productive one could be when one spent most of one’s day running and hiding from one’s best friend, Zoey reflected as she shifted uncomfortably inside the isolation pod, scooting as far down as she could against the spherical walls in an effort to get a peek at Max’s desk. Every time he came close to her, she thought of something urgent. Something that absolutely had to be handled <em>at that very minute</em>. On the other side of the room. Or the building. Or the city, although Joan had shot that suggestion down.</p><p>She watched him walk away, moving out of sight, and held her breath as she counted to ten. Then she slowly opened the pod door, jumping to her feet with a sigh of relief at the feel of a dozen muscles uncramping at once. Her right foot had fallen asleep about ten minutes before, and she hopped up and down to try to work the pins and needles out of her system.</p><p>“Zoey, can we talk for a minute?” Max’s voice was soft behind her, completely at odds with the shrillness of her yelp as she turned around. She staggered two steps when her newly awakened foot protested the abrupt action, and she had to catch hold of the top of her former sanctuary to keep from going down.</p><p>“Max!” she gasped, pressing her free hand to her chest to try to slow the racing of her heart. Was it racing because he had startled her? Or because he was near? She wasn’t sure, but she had a feeling she didn’t want to consider the question too closely. “I, uh, didn’t know you were there!”</p><p>“I had a feeling,” he replied in a wry tone. “Since you’ve been avoiding me all day.”</p><p>Zoey’s laugh was abrasive, and a touch too loud. “Who, me? Avoiding you? Don’t be silly! Of course not!” Even as she lied, her eyes scanned the room, looking for her next avenue of escape. Which coincidentally also prevented her from looking at him, and the lips she hadn’t been able to stop staring at in the rare moments their paths had crossed that day. “I’ve just been…busy. Really, <em>really</em> busy. In fact…I was just about to go see Joan. Can we talk later?”</p><p>Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow flash across his face, but then his expression cleared and his eyes softened. “Is that what this is about? You’re nervous about the promotion?” Placing his hands on her shoulders, he gave them a soft, reassuring squeeze before trailing his palms down her arms. It was a sweet, comforting, innocuous gesture that she absolutely not have made her feel the urge to lean into his body, silently inviting him to wrap her in his arms. Oblivious to her mental turmoil, he continued, “She would be an idiot not to give you that promotion, and if there’s one thing Joan isn’t, it’s an idiot.”</p><p>The promotion. Right. She’d totally forgotten about it, but it was a conversational life raft, and she clutched onto it for all that she was worth. Hopefully, focusing on it would help tear her mind off the memory of the faint scrape of stubble against her skin as he pressed kisses against the side of her neck. Breathlessly, she continued, “Thanks, Max. I know you’re right, but…I keep telling myself anything can happen until the decision is final. I just want this so much, and I need Joan to see that.”</p><p>“I know,” he offered with a soft smile. He hesitated, and she could almost see his mind working as he debated whether to say anything more. In the end, however, he said, “I know this isn’t a good time, but I think we should talk. About, um, last night. Do you want to come over work…?”</p><p>He let the question trail off, and Zoey found herself shaking her head before the words had even left his mouth. “Um, that sounds great, but I was going to stop by and see my dad tonight.” Then, because she didn’t want him to think she was avoiding him – although she definitely was – she suggested, “Can we talk this weekend?” Though she doubted she’d be any better prepared to discuss the events of the previous evening, let alone her escape this morning, at any point during the next forty-eight hours than she was right then and there. She was really just delaying the inevitable, but it made her feel better to focus on the delay, rather than the inevitability.</p><p>His answering nod was immediate and just trusting enough to make her feel a quick stab of guilt. “Of course. Say hi to your dad for me and remember if you need anything, help at work or with your dad, I’m here for you.”</p><p>Of course he was, and the fact she didn’t even have to doubt it made her briefly consider dragging him into one of the meditation rooms to show her appreciation in a way that would certainly not be sanctioned by HR. Instead, she plastered a vague approximation of a smile on her face, nodded, and headed towards Joan’s office with brisk, efficient steps. Hoping her brain could concoct a reason she <em>needed</em> to see her boss <em>right now</em> at some point along the way.</p><p>Later that evening, Zoey felt a little guilty as she knocked on Mo’s door, hoping to catch her newfound friend at home. Her delaying tactic hadn’t been a <em>complete </em>lie. She had stopped by her parents’ house after work to check on her dad. But she really needed to talk to someone about the mess she was making of her love – or at least sex – life, and she wasn’t ready to have that conversation with her parents. She needed Mo.</p><p>“I need your help,” she blurted, as soon as he opened the door in response to her knock. Before he could say anything, she thrust a bottle of wine in his arms, a pre-emptive peace offering, in case his plans for the evening hadn’t involved helping her figure out what she was going to do about her inconvenient attraction toward her best friend. Feelings? Attraction. Feelings. She couldn’t even decide which it was. “I had sex with Max and then I snuck out of his place the next morning without a word.”</p><p>His appraising glance lifted from the bottle in his hand to her face. “Sounds like this calls for something stronger than wine,” he remarked, stepping back inside his apartment. “Come on in. I’ll grab the whiskey.”</p><p>A minute or so later, he returned to the living room, thrusting a half-filled glass into her hands. “So, does this mean you finally decided to listen to what your heartsongs were trying to tell you?”</p><p>She gulped back a large sip and then grimaced when the alcohol slammed into the back of her throat and burned the entire way down. Gasping for air, she replied, “If you mean, did I suggest we have sex in a no-strings-attached friends with benefits…thing? Yes. Yes, I did.”</p><p>Mo plopped onto the couch next to her, taking a moment to get settled in before asking, “So what you’re saying is, when I told you that the fact you were singing <em>love songs</em> to Max meant you needed to get your head and your heart on the same page, you decided to do the <em>exact opposite</em>? It’s amazing. Really.”</p><p>“It was an accident!”</p><p>Mo raised his eyebrows at her. “How do you accidentally ask someone to have sex with you?”</p><p>“It just…slipped out,” she mumbled, blushing. “We were…he was…the subject kinda came up, and…it’s complicated.”</p><p>Shaking his head, Mo took a sip of his drink. “Okay, so – other than the fact that you’re still completely ignoring your real feelings for the man – I don’t understand the problem. Was he bad in bed?”</p><p>“It isn’t that,” she groaned, staring at her drink as she debated whether the blissful numbness of alcohol would be worth another reminder of what it would feel like to set her esophagus on fire. “He was…pretty great, actually. Now I can’t stop think about it. Him. Him, like…” she paused, waving her free hand in the air in a vague gesture, “that.” She took another sip, which made her eyes tear up but hurt marginally less than it had the last time. “His mouth, and his hands, and his…” Nope. Not even with Mo did she feel comfortable enough to say it. “That. Like that.”</p><p>“Oh, no,” Mo deadpanned. “That must be devastating for you. I’ll pray for you during this difficult time."</p><p>“You don’t understand,” she said miserably. “Having sex with him was supposed to make me <em>stop</em> wanting to have sex with him!”</p><p>This time, it was Mo’s turn to cough, though it seemed more from surprise than as an effect of the alcohol. “And has that <em>ever</em> worked for you?”</p><p>She grimaced. “Once,” she admitted. “Geoff. College. I don’t like to talk about it.”</p><p>“Ohhhhhkay,” he replied, dragging out the word as he braced his head against one hand. “So, <em>why </em>would it be so bad if you told him how you felt about him?”</p><p>“Because,” Zoey replied earnestly, as though that should be enough. When it clearly wasn't, she leaned forward and explained, “I’m a disaster at relationships. All of my previous relationships have been…bad.” That was hardly sufficient to get the point across, so she added, “I mean, Russian play levels of bad.”</p><p>Mo seemed to consider her confession. “If it was a Russian play, wouldn’t everyone end up dead?”</p><p>She pondered this suggestion. “Okay, maybe more like a Greek tragedy.” Since they were deviating from the point, she waved the question away. “Either way, they’ve been bad on an apocalyptic scale. I can’t let that happen with Max. So I thought, you know, if it’s just me, and it’s just <em>sex</em>, it’s…safe. Things won’t last, anyway. They never do, with me. And when it’s done, I’ll get over my feelings for him, and we can go back to being friends. I won’t ruin things with him. Like, I feel you should be <em>very </em>clear, I always do.”</p><p>Pursing his lips, he threw her a thoughtful look. “I’m…fascinated by the way your mind works.”</p><p>“Thank you?” she ventured, suspecting he wasn’t being sincere but hoping for the best anyway.</p><p>“That wasn’t a compliment. What are you going to do if he starts to suspect you have feelings for him? You know, those pesky things you’re trying to ignore, even though you know for damn sure that your heartsongs won’t go away until you own up to them?”</p><p>This was one subject on which Zoey was supremely confident. “Oh, he won’t,” she said firmly. “He thinks I’m in love with, ah, someone from work.”</p><p>“Simon?”</p><p>She shook her head. “No. Tobin. He’s one of the brogrammers.”</p><p>“And why does he—”</p><p>She waved her hand in the air again, as though it was a magic wand that could whisk away every question she didn’t want to answer. “Because I told him I was. To deflect? It’s a long story; it doesn’t matter. Anyway, I let him think any love songs he may hear me sing are because I’m thinking about Tobin.”</p><p>Mo’s level of disbelief at this revelation was almost palpable. “Uh huh,” he replied, his voice somehow both flat and more than adequate to convey his disapproval. “This is going to be a disaster. I know it. You know it, even if you don’t want to admit it. Everyone in the world knows it! <em>Max</em> probably knows it, even if he’s thinking with the wrong head right now!”</p><p>Miserable, Zoey went to take another sip of her drink and was surprised to find the glass empty. With a mournful pout, she asked, “Okay, so, what do I do? How do I fix this?”</p><p>“You tell him how you feel. How you <em>really</em> feel.”</p><p>“I can’t do that,” she admitted in a tortured whisper.</p><p>He sighed. “Zoey. Whether or not you want to admit it? You are in love with Max, and that means that you’re fooling yourself if you think you’ll ever be okay with no-strings-attached sex. You <em>want</em> the strings."</p><p>"I don't want the strings," she protested in an undertone, knowing even as she said the words that they were a terrible lie.</p><p>Mo shook his head. "If you can’t tell him how you feel, I guess you should give this friends with benefits thing a shot and hope for the best. Because the longer this goes on, the more of a disaster it’s going to be. And take it from me, the person who’s going to get hurt in all of this is you.”</p><p>She had no doubt that was absolutely true. But that didn’t seem to matter to her heart – or her body. Both wanted Max, and so she could hardly feign surprise when she found herself headed in the direction of his apartment after leaving Mo’s a short time later. Reminding herself that she should keep her distance for a while didn’t do any good, since even her inner voice lacked the strength of her own convictions.</p><p>On her way over, she’d found herself wondering if he was as concerned, as filled with doubt, about the new dynamic to their relationship as she was. If he was, it wasn’t evident on his face as he answered the door with a smile. She would have been relieved, if she didn’t suspect it was an indication that he didn’t have deeper feelings for her, the way she did for him.</p><p>“Hey,” he greeted her warmly. “I was hoping you’d stop by. I thought we should talk. About—”</p><p>Even as he spoke, she heard the first strands of music, felt the now-familiar compulsion as it began to wash over her. Perhaps she should kiss him to try to head it off, but she was actually grateful to feel it coming on. Maybe it would divert their attention from the conversation she didn’t want to have.</p><p>Still, it wouldn’t do to sing him a love song. Not right now. So instead, she focused as hard as she could on the fantasies that had consumed her for most of the day. Most of the week, for that matter. Memories of his mouth on hers, his hands as they slid over her naked body, the feel of him when he moved inside her. She felt her efforts were rewarded when she gave in to the compulsion to step closer to him, pressing her body against his as she began to sing, her voice soft and sultry.</p><p><em>“Come on closer, I want to show you what I’d like to do.” </em>His voice trailed off when she began her song, and she took full advantage of his momentary surprise, kicking the door closed behind her as she pushed him back towards the couch. At her gentle shove, she pushed him back against the cushions and straddled his lap. <em>“You sit back now, just relax now. I’ll take care of you.”</em></p><p>“Zoey, I—” he began, but she pressed one finger against his mouth, silencing him.</p><p>Rolling her hips against his, she felt him grow hard beneath her and smiled as she tore her shirt over her head and tossed it aside. <em>“Hot temptations, sweet sensations, infiltrating through. Sweet sensations, hot temptations, coming over you.” </em></p><p>Max didn’t protest as she helped him out of his shirt before looping her arms around his neck. Slowly, teasingly, she rocked against him until he moaned. Then she shifted backward, returning to her feet so she could shimmy out of her pants. <em>“Gonna take it slow, babe. Do it my way. Keep your eyes on me.” </em>Though she had no control over the lyrics to the song, he hardly needed such direction. He stared at her as though enchanted, his gaze following the thin fabric of her panties as they slid down her legs before she kicked them aside. <em>“Your reaction to my action is what I want to see.” </em>Even through the heartsong, Zoey smiled to herself at the sight of the erection that tented his pants. She reached for him, and he grabbed her hand, pulling her back into his lap to press his mouth against the curve of her shoulder. She shivered when he unfastened her bra with deft fingers, nudging the straps down her shoulders until she was freed. Then his mouth was on her, scraping her breast with his teeth as he slid his hand between her thighs.</p><p>She let out a moan, reaching for him. Her fingers were clumsy as she fumbled with the button of his pants, finally pulling it loose. With a cry of triumph, she pulled him free, stroking him with one hand in a rhythm that matched his hands on her. Her voice was thick with desire, her body aching with need, as she continued, <em>“Rhythmic motion, raw emotion, infiltrating through. Sweet sensations, hot temptations, coming over—”</em></p><p>“No more singing,” he growled, pulling her mouth roughly against his as he slid inside her with one hard thrust. Then, even if she’d wanted to continue singing, she wouldn’t have been able to find the breath as she rode him, her body matching his every thrust. Gripping the back of the couch with one hand, she teased him with her body. Dared him. Pushing him to go faster, silently demanding his thrusts to go deeper.</p><p>Max gripped her hips with his hands, his fingers creating pale circles on her skin from his grasp. But his body answered her demands, his hips pounding into hers until sweat trickled between her shoulder blades, and she threw back her head to try to catch her breath. She was so close, and then she heard her name. “Zoey.” It was part-growl, part-plea on his lips, and it sent her over the edge, her entire body shaking as her orgasm swept over her.</p><p>Even as her body shuddered with her release, she kept up the rhythm. Wrapping one hand around his neck, she yanked him to her, sweeping her tongue against his lower lip as she kissed him. A moment later, she felt him stiffen in her arms and smiled against his lips, swallowing his satisfied moan as he poured himself inside her.</p><p>In the aftermath, she lay sprawled across his body as their breathing deepened and their movements became slow and languid. As the sweat evaporated from her skin, she shivered in the sudden cold and shifted, intending to move off him. But before she could, he wrapped his arm around her hips, holding her in place as he nuzzled her collarbone with his cheek.</p><p>“You don’t have to go,” he reminded her in an undertone, recognizing her intent to leave even before she did. “Stay here tonight.”</p><p>Part of her wanted to protest. Sleeping with him would make this feel a little less like no-strings-attached sex and a little more like something real. But she didn’t know how to put that vague feeling into words, so she simply threw him a soft smile, knowing he would take it as silent assent.</p><p>He did, lifting her easily into his arms as he got slowly to his feet. He carried her into the bedroom, putting her gently on the bed before climbing in next to her. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he pulled her back against him, and she closed her eyes and relished the feel of their bodies pressed together. She couldn’t help but notice how perfectly they fit together, as he bent to brush a soft kiss against the curve of her neck below her ear.</p><p>“Good night, Zoey,” he whispered.</p><p>“’Night, Max,” she returned in an equally soft voice. And though she didn’t intend to, she fell asleep there in his arms, waking only when the soft light of dawn spilled through the window. Realizing with a start what she had done, she threw a quick look over her shoulder, breathing a silent sigh of relief when she saw that he was still asleep.</p><p>The sight of him sleeping beside her, the heavy weight of his arm against her side, made her long to stay in his arms forever. It only served to remind her of why she had to go now, before he – and, perhaps more likely – her heart could get the wrong idea. Pushing aside the sense of guilt that twisted in her stomach, she pulled slowly out from under his arm and slunk off into the early light of dawn alone. As before, abandoning him alone in bed. Leaving him without a word.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zoey knew she owed Max an explanation for her behavior, leaving him without so much as a note. Twice. The problem was, she wasn’t even sure she could explain it to herself, let alone to him. So when she arrived at work first thing on Monday morning to be told she had been chosen for the coveted promotion, she took the news with as much relief as exultation. It provided an easy excuse to avoid Max for a while, at least until she’d figured out what she would say to him.</p><p>Still, while she found herself bracing for his censure when he walked in, there was no need. He didn’t chastise her for her actions, though is gaze was a bit distant, his tone slightly impersonal, as he greeted her and headed to his desk. His smile seemed genuine a short time later when he congratulated her on her promotion, but he still didn’t press her for answers. In fact, while she’d never say he avoided her throughout the day, he also didn’t seek out her company.</p><p>But he watched her, as though he was waiting for something. For her. Every so often, she would look his way, and she would find him gazing at her from across the room. His eyes were guarded, his expression inscrutable, and she almost wished he would force her hand. If he took her aside and demanded an explanation, she wouldn’t be able to continue postponing their conversation. She would have to take a good, hard look at herself and figure out why she kept leaving him as she did. But he never once approached her, not even for an explanation or excuse, and so she sat, alone and silent in her confusion and misery.</p><p>Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. When she saw him head towards the coffee bar, she followed him and pulled him aside before they could reach their destination. “Max, could I talk to you?” she asked.</p><p>His smile was tight, and it didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t know, Zoey. Can you?”</p><p>“I probably deserved that,” she acknowledged, flushing. “I’m sure you’re angry, and you have every right to be. I’m just not sure what to say.”</p><p>He grunted, the sound almost inaudible, as his gaze drifting to fix on some distant point above her head. “I’m not mad.” For a split second, she felt her spirits lift, until he continued. “But I am a little hurt.”</p><p>“Oh, god, that’s worse,” she mumbled, wishing she could melt into a puddle on the floor. Anger was easy. They didn’t often get mad at each other, but it happened every so often in the course of every relationship. Even between very good friends. Knowing that she’d <em>hurt </em>him? The only thing that could be worse is if she’d disappointed him somehow. She didn’t have the first clue how to make <em>that</em> better. “I wish I could explain.”</p><p>“Can’t you?” he asked, keeping his voice low. “Because the whole point of friends with benefits is we’re supposed to be friends. But when I woke up in the morning and found you gone – for the second night in a row – it didn’t feel like you saw me as your <em>friend</em>.”</p><p>She winced. “I know. I’m sorry.”</p><p>His eyes softened, and he gave a small shake of his head. “I don’t want your apology. I want to understand. Do you regret what we did?”</p><p>“No, of course not!” she reassured him quickly. “It’s just…waking up next to you…it makes it feel <em>real</em>. And I just…I wasn’t prepared.”</p><p>Max’s head tilted slightly to the side, and he asked in a tentative voice, “Is that…is that what you want? Do you want this to be real?”</p><p>His words prompted a swell of panic she couldn’t quite suppress, and her voice was way too loud when she blurted in a tone close to a yell, “No!” The vehemence of her response seemed to take him by surprise, because he took a quick step back, his eyes growing wide. It occurred to her belatedly that she might have hurt his feelings, but she didn’t know how to ask without sounding like she was making an assumption that could complicate things even more.</p><p>Part of her did want it to be real, and that was what scared her. It would be disastrous to give in to that temptation; her romantic track record was testament enough to that. The problem was, the more she let herself imagine what it would be like if it were <em>real</em>, the easier it would be to forget all the reasons why she couldn’t afford to let herself do so. She’d rather hide her messy, inconvenient feelings for him and break her own heart than drive him away. She couldn’t lose him. She wasn’t even brave enough to risk it.</p><p>Her fears were confirmed when she heard the hurt in his voice as he said, “Wow. Okay Do I really seem like I would be that terrible of a boyfriend? I know you’re not into me like that, but I didn’t think it was something you had to yell about.”</p><p>She felt her face go red when she looked around and noticed that her outburst had indeed drawn attention. “It’s not…I don’t mean it like that,” she mumbled, wishing she’d had the foresight to take him someplace more private before having this conversation. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>He shrugged. “It’s fine. I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page.”</p><p>“We are,” she reassured him. “I don’t really know what’s going on with me, but I don’t regret what we did, and I’m not expecting anything more.”</p><p>“All right. Well, I guess…when you figure it out, let me know.” She could still see the hurt in his eyes when he walked past her, and it left her feeling sick inside. Although she’d approached him with the best of intentions, wanting to fix things between him, she was afraid she’d only made them worse.</p><p>It was for that reason that she could hardly pretend to be surprised when he was distant from her for the rest of the day. As before, he didn’t avoid her, but he didn’t go out of his way to speak to her, either. Neither would he meet her eye, which left her wondering what he was thinking.</p><p>When the day ended and she saw him get up to leave, she debated whether she should approach him one more time, try to find an excuse that would spare his feelings without revealing her own. Her heart was heavy in her chest when she saw him turn to leave, without her ever finding the words to explain. But before he reached the elevators, he spun around and began to sing.</p><p>
  <em>“You left in the morning. You left without a word. Did you get what you came for? Is this what I deserve? All I know is the silence was the loudest thing I’ve ever heard. Where do I stand? What am I supposed to do? Give me the clearest indication I’m not alone with you. Reach out your hand in a world I thought I knew. I need the clearest indication, the clearest indication from you.”</em>
</p><p>He didn’t approach her as he sang. He didn’t even dance, like most people did during heartsongs. He just propped one bent arm against the wall, using it to support his weight, as he watched her from across the room with sad eyes while he continued, <em>“Times like these it’s hard to see with any kind of clarity. What’s the point of wondering anymore? There’s so much I just can’t figure out, I’d love to know without a doubt for sure, for sure. Where do I stand? What am I supposed to do? Give me the clearest indication I’m not alone with you. Reach out your hand in a world I thought I knew. I need the clearest indication, the clearest indication from you.”</em></p><p>As his song came to an end, Zoey rose to her feet. She still didn’t know what to say to him, but she thought she would never forget the bleakness in his eyes during his song. This wasn’t what he deserved, and she knew it, but before she could approach him, he turned again and left without another word.</p><p>She told herself she should keep her distance, at least until she could figure out what to say to him. But she found herself outside his apartment less than two hours later, her hand trembling when she raised it to knock on the door that separated her from Max. If she dared announce her presence, how would she be received? Would he welcome her, or had she done too much damage already?</p><p>Her rap was tentative, almost too soft to hear, and she almost turned and left without waiting to see if he would answer. Before she could, however, the door swung open to reveal Max on the other side. His expression was still guarded, but he didn't slam the door in her face, which she took to be a good sign.</p><p>Zoey didn’t give him a chance to speak. “You're right, you deserve the truth. Even if it's messy and complicated and doesn't make a lot of sense. The truth is, I don’t want this – <em>us </em>– to feel like it’s real, because I’m afraid I’ll want it to be.”</p><p>He was silent for a long moment as he processed her confession. Then he asked, “Would that be so bad?”</p><p>“Yes, because if I let myself fall in love with you…I could lose you. I can’t deal with that. Not right now, when I’m already losing my dad. Can’t we just…keep things the way they are right now?”</p><p>“You aren’t going to lose me,” he said, rather than answer her question.</p><p>“I can’t take that chance.” He didn’t say anything right away, but she saw his posture relax and thought it might be a silent display of assent. “So…can I come in?” she asked in a small voice, still uncertain of her reception.</p><p>His mouth twisted in a scowl as his gaze fell to the ground, and he seemed to be pondering her question. “Not if you’re just going to leave again. There’s a difference between being friends with benefits and being a booty call, and I can’t be your booty call.”</p><p>Taking a chance, she scooted forward and pressed her hands against his chest. “I know. I want to stay. Just…promise me that it’ll just be like this – that nothing between us is going to change.” It was half-demand, half-plea.</p><p>He sighed, leaning his head against the doorjamb. “I can promise you that nothing will ever change the way I feel for you right now.”</p><p>Something about his tone made his response feel more cryptic than she expected, but she wasn’t about to push her luck. Her voice was a whisper of sound as she asked, “Let me stay with you tonight. Please?”</p><p>Her knees almost buckled in relief when he placed one hand over hers, where it lay on his chest, feeling the vibrations rumble through his chest as he replied in a low voice, “I could never say no to you, Zoey. You know that.”</p><p>He stepped back, pulled her into the apartment, and kicked the door shut behind her. Leaning past her, he locked it with a quick twist of his wrist, and she tugged at the bottom of his shirt, eager to pull it over his head.</p><p>To her surprise, he shook his head, grabbing her hands. “It’s my turn,” he explained, when she looked up at him in surprise. Then, in one fluid motion, he picked her up, pulling her against him as he pressed her back against the door. When his mouth pressed against hers, she expected his kiss to be rushed, demanding. On the contrary, his kiss was slow. Exploratory. Like he was trying to memorize the feel of her lips against his and the taste of her kiss.</p><p>“Max?” she breathed, her head falling back against the door as his hands slid under the bottom hem of her shirt, tracing tiny circles against her sides with his thumbs. “Please.”</p><p>At her plea, his hands slid up her sides until his thumbs were stroking the undersides of her breasts. She wanted to feel his hands on her. His mouth. To feel his naked body pressed against hers, and he swallowed her moan of need with another kiss.</p><p>Her fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt, where it stretched across his shoulders, and she gasped when he tightened his arms around her, pulling her away from the wall. His kisses alternated between teasing and demanding, keeping her unsure of his intent as he spun with her in his arms. Although he clearly intended to head for the bedroom, he let out a soft groan and stumbled to a halt when she rocked her hips against his, pressing against the erection that tented his pants.</p><p>Zoey felt him lower her to the ground, and she opened her mouth to protest, but then his hands were on her, yanking her shirt over her head and fumbling briefly with the button of her pants. When she reached for him, however, he dodged her hands, dropping to his knees to help her step out of her shoes and pants before tossing the discarded articles of clothing aside. For a moment, she wondered if she should be embarrassed, standing before him as she was, completely naked while he was fully clothed. But it was hard to feel shame when he was looking at her like she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.</p><p>His hands danced along her skin, down the curve of her legs as he pulled her gently closer, and she shuddered when she felt his mouth against the curve of her stomach. Her mind was clouded with need and desire, and so she didn’t notice at first when the music started to play, that only she could hear. Until he started to sing, the words slightly muffled by his mouth against her skin.</p><p>
  <em>“She stands before you naked, you can see it, you can taste it. But she comes to you light as the breeze. You can drink, or you can nurse it, it don’t matter how you worship. As long as you’re down on your knees. So I knelt there at the delta, at the alpha and the omega, at the cradle of the river and the seas. And like a blessing come from heaven, for something like a second, I was healed, and my heart was at ease. Oh, baby, I waited so long for your kiss. For something to happen. Oh, something like this…”</em>
</p><p>At some point, she really was going to have to remember to tell him that she could hear his heartsongs again - as well as work out if this meant she would no longer feel compelled to sing her own - but now was not the time. As much as she enjoyed hearing him sing, there were other things she wanted him to be doing with his mouth. “Max, please,” she said again, swaying toward him, her hand sinking into his hair.</p><p>She tried to give it a soft tug, wanting to pull him to his feet, but he ignored her silent direction. Instead, he wrapped his hand around one thigh, lifting it to rest it over his shoulder. Zoey gasped, her grasp on him becoming more necessary than needy, as she clutched onto him for balance. But then his mouth was on her, his tongue delving between her folds, and her knees buckled.</p><p>Without the trip he had on her leg and her hip, she would have fallen, but that didn’t stop him. His mouth was almost merciless as he explored her with his lips, teasing her with his tongue as he scraped his teeth gently until she was repeating his name in a mindless chant with whatever breath she could manage to find.</p><p>“Max, please,” she moaned, her back arching as she pressed harder against him. Her plea only seemed to encourage him, as his mouth became more purposeful. He brought her to the brink of orgasm, only to slow his ministrations until she backed down again. Once. Twice. Three times. Until she didn’t know whether to beg, scream, or push him back to the floor, rip off his clothes, and take from him what he kept just out of reach.</p><p>His fingers entered her, stroking her in and out while his tongue swirled around her clit, making her buck her hips against his mouth again. Then he pulled her clit between his lips, stroking it with his tongue once more, and she came, her body shuddering against his.</p><p>She was still trembling when he rose to his feet, sweeping her into his arms and heading towards the bedroom with quick, sure strides. His lips were still damp with her juices, and she almost came again at the sight.</p><p>But even as he carried her, he picked up his song once more. <em>“There’s blood on every bracelet. You can see it, you can taste it. And it’s please, baby. Please, baby. Please. And she says, drink deeply, pilgrim. But don’t forget there’s still a woman beneath this resplendent chemise.”</em></p><p>He put her gently on the bed, straightening long enough to pull off his clothes. Then he knelt before her again, pulling her to the edge of the mattress so he could press a kiss against her inner thigh. <em>“So I knelt there at the delta, at the alpha, and the omega. I knelt there like one who believes. And like a blessing come from heaven, for something like a second, I was cured. And my heart was at ease.”</em></p><p>She didn’t really understand his song and what it was trying to convey, but her mind was unable to focus on the words as he stroked her with his fingers again, bringing her close to climax for a second time. She expected him to join her on the bed, but when he continued to explore her with his hands and his mouth, she slid off the edge, lowering herself onto his lap instead. Her back pressed against the side of the mattress, her weight resting on the bed as he thrust inside of her.</p><p>Zoey could barely catch her breath as he increased the rhythm of his hips, rocking against hers, let alone protest as he continued to sing. <em>“Oh, baby, I waited so long for your kiss. For something to happen. Oh, Something like this. Something like—”</em></p><p>Wrapping his hand around the back of his neck, she pulled him down for a kiss, her mouth swallowing the last word of his song as she dug her free hand into his shoulders, her body demanding more as she met his thrusts with her own. She could feel the muscles in his arms tense, knew he was close, but she didn’t relent. Instead, she threw her head back, letting out a sharp cry as she felt his body go rigid, and he poured himself into her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zoey awoke to the feel of Max’s arm heavy on her waist, his breath warm against the back of her neck. It was as she feared; waking up in his arms like this made her long even more for their relationship to be real. But rather than run from it, this time she leaned into it, scooting even deeper into his embrace.</p><p>Her heart whispered a warning that she ignored as she closed her eyes, relishing the quiet stillness of the morning and the comfort she found in his arms. It was so strange to think that it had taken a glitch in her powers for her to realize her feelings for him. Lying in his bed, wrapped in his arms, she could swear she could wake up like this every morning for the rest of her life.</p><p>As she contemplated this thought – which was not entirely unwelcome, for all that it was terrifying – she felt him shift, his hand sliding along the curve of her hip. Pushing more serious concerns aside, she rolled over, resting her palms against his bare chest as she stared into his eyes. His gaze was fuzzy, his voice roughened with sleep, but a smile flirted with the corner of his mouth as he marveled, “You’re still here.”</p><p>How badly had she hurt him before, for there to be such wonder in his voice now? She couldn’t change the past, but she vowed right then to do everything in her power to make it up to him moving forward. “I’m still here,” she reassured him, trailing her fingertips across the soft stubble along his chin.</p><p>His breath fanned against her cheek as he heaved a soft sigh, leaning in close to capture her lips in a kiss.</p><hr/><p>Over time, Zoey and Max grew into a comfortable pattern. They spent their days at work, careful to maintain the fiction that theirs was strictly a relationship of friends and colleagues. Their nights were spent together, Zoey struggling to try to hide the truth in her heart even as she memorized his body and the taste of his kiss.</p><p>To her relief, she no longer burst into heartsongs, nor did she hear the songs his heart would sing, though her power continued to exert itself with others. She didn’t know if her own silence was a sign that whatever glitch had overtaken her powers had ended, and she would be left in peace. Perhaps the universe had simply decided to give her time to sort out her love life for herself, without pressing the issue. If only for now.</p><p>Or perhaps it was merely that the universe no longer felt the need to force her into song, to make her realize her feelings for Max. Every day, Zoey felt herself slide fall deeper in love with him, her feelings growing even as she acknowledged no hope of them ever being returned.</p><p>Regarding the nature of his own heart, it remained elusive to her. As he had been in their friendship, he was a kind and attentive lover, and if his feelings ran deeper than she believed, he never let on. It was for that reason alone that Zoey sometimes cursed the sudden, inexplicable silence of her powers around him, as she ached to unravel the mysteries lurking in his heart. But that part of him remained hidden from her, even as she memorized the curves and planes of his body as he brought her pleasure, night after night.</p><p>If he loved her, surely she would hear him sing as much, she mused one lazy Saturday afternoon as he drove her to her parents’ house for dinner. Mitch had once loved cookouts, and although his failing health meant he could no longer host such a gathering, David had thought the resurrection of this dormant family tradition might bring a smile to his face. Zoey had barely needed to mention Max’s name to secure an invitation on his behalf; he had been a frequent visitor to their cookouts in the past, and if he wasn’t embraced as a member of the family, exactly, he was at least family-adjacent.</p><p>She was afraid the next few hours would be somewhat trying, as they maintained the pretense that they were nothing more than friends. She didn’t have the words to explain her true feelings about Max, and she couldn’t bring herself to admit the complicated nature of their current relationship. Pretending that their friendship lacked any additional <em>benefits</em> would ensure it could retain intact and not suffer in her family’s eyes once said benefits came to an inevitable end.</p><p>His hand covered her own for the duration of the drive, and she wondered if he was as nervous about maintaining a pretense for the next few hours as she was. But he gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze as he pulled into a spot in front of the Clarke’s home. “You ready for this?”</p><p>She nodded, though she didn’t reach for the door, and Max shot a quick look over her shoulder towards the house before leaning in and stealing a kiss from her lips. When he pulled away, she stifled a sigh, wishing the two could linger, even as she made a grab for the door handle. Out on the sidewalk, her hand itched to reach for his, but she was afraid even a gesture that minor would reveal too much, so she fingered the skirt of her dress instead as they made their way up her parents’ front walk.</p><p>A while later, she was standing in their kitchen, watching out the window at Max and David as they engaged in conversation out of her earshot. She wondered what they were discussing as Max gesticulated wildly and barely registered the words when her mother asked, “So, how are things going at work?”</p><p>“Hmm? They’re fine,” she said absently, amusing herself as she contemplated what the two men could possibly be discussing. As she watched, Emily approached her husband, and he wrapped his arm around her waist in a casual, intimate gesture that brought a swift stab of jealousy to Zoey’s own heart so sharp, it took her breath away. Could she could do the same with Max without arousing suspicion? It seemed to her that they had in the past, but now they had too much to conceal to take the risk.</p><p>She was so lost in her musings, it took her a moment to register that her mother was still speaking to her. “…<em>feelings</em> for him?”</p><p>“What? Max? I don’t have feelings for Max!” Zoey practically yelled, spinning around to face her mother.</p><p>She saw Maggie’s eyes widen in surprise. “I didn’t say you did,” she replied carefully. “The last time you were here, you said you had a crush on someone at work.” When she didn’t respond right away, her mom continued, “Honey, that guy you like at work…were you talking about Max?”</p><p>Her heart was hammering so hard in her chest, Zoey wondered if her mother could hear it across the room. She didn’t know what to say, so she just pressed her lips together and gave a quick shake of her head. She was scrambling to find the words that would form a convincing lie, distracting her mother from the truth of her feelings in order to prevent Max from picking up on the same. Unfortunately, nothing came to mind. “I-I-I—” she stammered.</p><p>“I know it can be hard to combine work and relationships, but you know your father and I did it for years,” Maggie began reassuringly, just as Zoey’s worst nightmare came true and she saw Max enter the room.</p><p>Stepping closer to Zoey’s mom with an affable smile, Max leaned back against the counter and asked, “Oh, are you guys talking about Tobin?”</p><p>“<em>Tobin</em>?” Maggie repeated, shooting her daughter a confused look.</p><p>Max followed suit, his face twisting into an apologetic grimace. “I…I didn’t mean to…”</p><p>“Yes! Tobin!” Zoey blurted, wishing the earth would swallow her whole as she met her mother’s eyes. “I…am in love…with Tobin. My coworker. Tobin. Not…” she paused, tilting her head slightly in Max’s direction, “…<em>anyone else</em>.”</p><p>“Oh,” Maggie replied, her gaze traveling between them. To Zoey’s immeasurable relief, she didn’t press the issue, though she still looked confused. “I thought your crush was named Simon.”</p><p>Right. Simon. She’d forgotten about him. “Ah…it is! I mean, I <em>did</em> have a crush on Simon. That is, I do. But he’s engaged, so it really wouldn’t work out. And then I realized that I…love…Tobin. Um, but it’s complicated. It also would never work out. He doesn’t return the feeling. Trust me. I know.” Even she was confused at this point whether she was really talking about her nonexistent feelings for Tobin or she was trying to tell her mom about her feelings for Max in some sort of cryptic code.</p><p>True to fashion, Max rushed to reassure her. As any best friend would do. “Maybe you’re giving him too little credit. If you gave him a chance, maybe he’d surprise you.” If she didn’t know if <em>she</em> was talking about Tobin or Max, she <em>definitely</em> didn’t know if he was talking about Tobin or if he was obliquely referring to himself.</p><p>Still, she couldn’t hold back a snort. “You don’t really believe that,” she chided Max in an undertone. “Aren’t you the one who said Tobin has the emotional depth of a puddle?”</p><p>He grimaced and replied in a similar voice, “Well, yes, but I realized that if you love him, there has to be more to him than I realized.”</p><p>“This Tobin…what’s he like? Is he nice?” Maggie asked, sounding no less confused as she tried to follow the conversation.</p><p>Zoey and Max exchanged a look. Finally, she replied, “Yes,” though the word came out as more of a question than an affirmative declaration, and Max replied conspicuously silent.</p><p>“I…see,” her mom finally ventured. “Well, that sounds…complicated, but I’m sure you’ve got things under control. Just remember that your father and I are here for you, if you ever want to talk about…things.” Wiping her hands together, she announced in an abrupt change of subject, “Now, it looks like dinner’s almost ready. What can I get the two of you to drink?”</p><hr/><p>They were on their way back to Max’s apartment, where they usually spent the night, when his long exhale broke the silence that had stretched between them ever since they’d left her parents’ place. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him open his mouth as though to say something, but then he closed it again without a word.</p><p>They still hadn’t talked about the scene in the kitchen. In fact, they hadn’t spoken of her supposed love for Tobin at all for some time, and Zoey wondered at Max’s recalcitrance on the subject. Did it stem from his general dislike for his coworker, or was he merely silent because he found it strange to discuss the man who supposedly held her heart while he warmed her bed?</p><p>Which left her wondering what he was thinking. For her part, she couldn’t help but reflect on the mess her life had become. A few weeks ago, she’d been wrapped up in her hopeless infatuation with Simon. Now her thoughts of him turned more to friendship than to love, and as much as she liked to think it was because he was engaged, she wondered if she was being completely honest with herself. The truth was, she was too preoccupied with her feelings for Max to wonder “what might have been” with Simon. And Max – dear, sweet, oblivious Max – thought she was in love with another man entirely.</p><p>A braver woman than she would admit the truth, but that risked their friendship in a way that even sex didn’t. Maybe this way, she would only ever have part of him, but wasn’t that better than having none of him at all.</p><p>Perhaps she couldn’t tell him what she thought of him – that she only really ever thought of him – but that didn’t mean she couldn’t show him. The idea struck like a bolt of lightning, and she acted on it before she could second-guess herself.</p><p>“Pull over,” she said abruptly, prompting him to throw her a look of concern.</p><p>“Is everything okay?” he asked, even as he turned into an empty parking lot. The side of the building blocked the view from the road as he pulled to a stop and threw the car into park. “Are you mad I mentioned Tobin? Because I—” he began, his voice breaking off with a sharp intake of breath as she leaned over the center console. In the dark, he fingers fumbled with the zipper of his pants, and she felt him grow hard under her palm as she freed him from the constraints of his clothing. When her lips wrapped around him, he tried to speak, but it came out as “I-I-Zsshhnn,” the muscles of his legs growing taut under her hand.</p><p>Sucking him deep into her throat, she heard Max’s elbow slam into the car door as he fumbled for the lever to adjust his seat. After a moment, it fell backwards, giving her a little more room between his body and the steering wheel, and she rewarded his efforts with a low hum that caused his hips to buck upward as his breath hissed out between clenched teeth.</p><p>“Zoey, I…gnnnh…Zoey,” he finally managed, one hand diving into her hair to pull it back off her face as she moved up and down on his cock. Shooting him a quick look out of the corner of her eye, she saw him throw his head back, the muscles in his neck standing out in stark relief. In the dim ambient light of the city, she could see his free hand clutch at the door with enough force to turn his knuckles white. Her hand slid along the base of his rigid member as she swirled her tongue along the tip, tasting his pre-cum.</p><p>Impossibly, she felt the muscles of his legs grow even tighter, and she knew he was close. Though he tugged gently on her hair, she sank onto him, closing her eyes. His reaction before had been so gratifying, she couldn’t resist temptation to hum again. If her mouth hadn’t been wrapped around him, she would have grinned when he bucked against her mouth hard one more time, his legs trembling slightly as he came.</p><p>Zoey swallowed quickly, running her tongue along his shaft as she felt him relax beneath her. It was only when the quiver in his legs subsided that she finally released him, sitting up with a self-satisfied smile. “No, I’m not mad,” she finally replied as she stared into his eyes, which were still wide with surprise.</p><p>“I…hold that thought,” he growled, the back of his seat coming up with a loud snap. Without another word, he put the car in gear and spun around, pulling back into traffic. Although they had been headed to his place, Zoey noticed that he was heading toward her apartment, which was closer. She almost asked him about it, but then his hand was on her bare thigh, sliding under the hem of her skirt, and she found herself unable to speak at all. His fingers stroked the tender skin of her inner thigh, his knuckles brushing against the cloth of her panties, and she caught her breath.</p><p>No matter how much she squirmed against him, his fingers remained on her leg, though she could feel him struggle to remain control as he traced the line of her underwear. Although he kept his eyes on the road, his jaw was clenched, his other hand tight on the steering wheel.</p><p>They were only a few minutes out, but Zoey was impatient. She wanted Max’s hands on her. His mouth. With a mischievous grin, she slid one hand down her stomach and under the line of her panties, her legs falling open as her fingers slipped between her folds. She stared at Max’s profile as she fingered herself, the harsh rasp of his breathing matching her own ragged breaths.</p><p>“Baby, slow down,” he murmured, his hand covering hers. Through the thin, delicate fabric, he directed her movements, guiding her to a pace that would keep her trembling at the edge of desire.</p><p>She barely noticed as Max’s car finally pulled into a parking space with a native New Yorker’s almost miraculous ability to parallel park with one hand. The car had barely pulled to a halt when he pulled away from her with a groan of frustration, scrambling to turn off the car with one hand while throwing open his car door with the other. In a matter of seconds, they were rushing toward her door, their hands linked together in a desperate attempt to keep them off each other.</p><p>The rush up the stairs to her apartment passed in a blur, and Zoey never would entirely remember how she finally managed to navigate the key into the lock. She just knew it took entirely too long until the door flew open and the two fell into her apartment, Max kicking the door closed behind them with a slam.</p><p>Although she had a vague thought they should aim toward the bedroom, they didn’t make it more than a step into her apartment before Max pulled her into his arms. Her back hit the door hard, and she heard the pop of seams ripping as they tore at each other’s clothes. Zoey’s skirt was twisted around her waist, and she barely managed to pull one foot out of her underwear before Max fell to his knees before her.</p><p>His mouth was hot on her thigh as he pulled her legs wider, and then she let out a sharp cry as his tongue slipped inside her. This was no slow, steady tease; his mouth was hard and demanding, mercilessly carrying her over the edge. Her loud, gasping breaths echoing through their empty apartment was the only sound until a loud knock on the door caused her to yelp, her elbow slamming loudly against the hard surface behind her.</p><p>For a moment, she debated ignoring the knock and pretending nobody was home, but Zoey knew her visitor would have heard her elbow hit the door. Still, she could hardly answer the door with her underwear twisted around one ankle.</p><p>Resting his weight back on his heels, Max helped her regain her balance as she kicked her underwear aside and smoothed down the line of her skirt. Then he rose to his feet and masked his face into a bland expression as Zoey turned and opened the door.</p><p>“Mo!” she gasped. “Um…c-can…can we…”</p><p>But she didn’t have to say anything else. Mo’s gaze traveled from her face to Max, standing beside her, his lips still damp from her juices. Without a word, but with a slight lift of his eyebrows, he spun around on one heel and headed back to his own apartment, closing his front door quietly behind him.</p><p>Zoey’s breath came out in a small, embarrassed laugh as she shut her own door and twisted the lock, but any discomfort faded as Max pulled her back against him again. His lips brushed the side of her neck as they pulled away from the door. In the back of her mind, it vaguely occurred to her that she should maneuver the two of them toward her bedroom, but they only made it as far as the kitchen.</p><p>“Max, please,” she breathed, bracing her hands against her kitchen island as she felt him take position behind her. His fingers were inside her, his smooth, confident strokes doing things to her body that should be illegal. “Please,” she moaned again, arching back against him.</p><p>His lips nipped at her the lobe of her ear as he rested one hand between her shoulder blades, exerting gentle pressure until she leaned forward to sprawl against the island countertop. Its smooth surface was cool against her cheek, and she clutched at the edge as he slid inside her.</p><p>“Don’t stop,” she pleaded, her voice sounding like a sob of need. Her hands trembled against the edge of the counter as she pressed back against him, meeting every thrust of his hips with her own.</p><p>“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered into her ear before pressing a warm kiss against the back of her neck. “Come with me, Zoey. Come with me.”</p><p>When Zoey felt her orgasm sweep over her, it was with Max’s arms around her, the memory of his kiss still lingering on her skin.</p><hr/><p>The next morning, Zoey gave a long, languid stretch as she rolled over in bed, her hand unconsciously reaching for Max’s warmth. When her hand hit nothing but a cold pillow, she frowned, rising into a sitting position as she looked around. It was then that she noticed the sound of the shower running nearby, and she hopped out of bed with a grin. With any luck, she could still catch him if she hurried.</p><p>Rushing toward the bathroom, she crept silently inside and pulled off her clothes, stepping up to the shower curtain with a mischievous smile. “Mind if I join you?” she asked, pulling it aside.</p><p>Max spun around in surprise, but his gaze warmed as she stepped into the shower. “I was just about done, but I can be persuaded to linger a little longer,” he teased gently, reaching for the body soap. She sighed, leaning against him as his hands danced across her skin. She reached for him, and he lifted her, pressing her back against the slick tile wall as he slid inside her. Their lovemaking the night before had been demanding, almost frantic. This morning, they took their time, each rock of their hips slow and deliberate. Almost indulgent. When Zoey’s orgasm came, it was less a wave washing over her and more a steady, inevitable slide off the edge of a cliff.</p><p>Her cheek was pressed against his shoulder, the water growing cold, when a loud knock from the next room brought her back to herself. There was someone at the door, and Zoey blushed when she remembered Mo’s previous visit. No doubt, he had returned, ready to dish the dirt about what, exactly, he had interrupted the night before.</p><p>“That’s probably Mo,” she acknowledged, pulling out his arms with only the faintest twinge of regret. “I guess I have a lot of explaining to do.”</p><p>She hesitated just long enough to brush a quick kiss against his lips. Then, stepping out of the shower, Zoey dried off quickly before shrugging into a robe and heading quickly toward the door. She reached the living room just as a second knock came and tried for an innocent smile as she threw open the door.</p><p>“Mo---ooom!” she drew out the word, changing the greeting as she saw the woman on the doorstep.</p><p>Her smile froze into a look of horror as Max stepped out of the bathroom behind her, a towel wrapped around his hips. “Hey, M-a-aggie,” he greeted her with a tight grin. His eyes shot between Zoey and her mother, trying to find a way to break the tension of this moment. Still damp from the shower, wrapped in nothing but a towel and a robe, there could be no question of what Zoey’s mother had just interrupted.</p><p>“I, um, I should…pants,” he mumbled, escaping back into the bedroom.</p><p>Her heart hammering in her chest, Zoey forced herself to meet her mother’s eyes. “Um…come…come on in. I’ll put on a pot of coffee,” she said with feigned cheer, stepping back. How was she going to explain this?</p><p>“I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” Maggie said, her voice heavy with significance as she followed her daughter into the kitchen. “Did I come at a bad time?”</p><p>“No, of course not!” she lied. “Max and I were just…we were…”</p><p>Dropping her voice, Maggie explained in a conspiratorial tone, “I know it isn’t any of my business, but I was a little concerned about you after last night. You have a crush on Max, you have a crush on Simon, you’re in love with Tobin. I wanted to make sure everything was okay with you, but it seems like you might have worked things out.”</p><p>“I – right. Yes. We did.” She shot a quick look over her mother’s shoulder. As much as she longed to tell her mom the truth – that she’d realized she was in love with Max and didn’t have the first idea how to handle the fact that her love was unreciprocated – she couldn’t risk doing so when he might return at any moment. The only thing she could imagine that would be more mortifying than her mother catching her in a post-coital glow would be Max discovering her feelings for him.</p><p>On the other hand, she couldn’t get the nerve to confess the truth, either – that her relationship with Max was, at present, entirely physical. Of course, she knew her mother loved her and wouldn’t judge, but there were still some things that one didn’t say to one’s mother.</p><p>Scrambling for some way to explain without giving everything away, she ventured, “Um, the thing is…about what I said last night…Max and I…we’re…”</p><p>As she fumbled for an explanation, she watched over Maggie’s shoulder as Max – now fully clothed – stepped into the room, throwing her an apologetic smile. This wasn’t the way he’d intended the morning to go, either, and she threw him a look of silent pleading as she stammered with her words. “We’re…um…”</p><p>When he correctly interpreted her silent plea and came to her rescue, she had to wonder if he was making the situation better or worse, however, when he blurted, “We’re dating.”</p><p>“Dating? Really?” Maggie asked, her eyebrows inching toward her hairline. Nodding, he shifted towards Zoey, wrapping his arm around her waist. She gave into temptation to lean into his solid warmth, taking comfort in his presence even though part of her knew that this lie would likely make the pain worse for her, in the end. “Mitch and I always wondered if there was something more between you two. How long has this been going on?” she asked, sounding pleased.</p><p>“Um…about a week?” Zoey ventured, and Max nodded. “The thing about last night is, um, Max and I…we hadn’t had a chance to talk about it yet…”</p><p>Picking up on her cue, he added, “Yeah, I didn’t know if this is something we were really telling people or—”</p><p>“—or if we were keeping it to ourselves,” Zoey finished for him. “The thing about Tobin was, well, it was—”</p><p>“—a lie,” he interjected.</p><p>She winced and rushed to soften that statement, “Well, maybe a little white lie.”</p><p>“So you’re not in love with Tobin?” Maggie clarified, watching the two of them closely as she stirred her coffee.</p><p>“God, no!” she blurted, relieved to be able to say the truth about <em>something</em>, even if she could feel Max softly stroke her back as though to comfort her in what he assumed to be a lie. “And as for Simon, I did have a crush on him. But, you know, he’s engaged. Max was…one night, he was trying to make me feel better, and I guess we realized…” She trailed off, too shy to finish the thought. But her mom was looking at her expectantly, and she realized there was part of her that was desperate to tell the truth. If only this once, when it could be couched as a lie. Her voice soft and a little wistful, she murmured, “I realized…Max is the person I’ve loved all along. Maybe…maybe a lot longer than I ever suspected.”</p><p>She watched the muscle in his jaw jump as he swallowed, but he didn’t meet her eyes as he pressed a kiss against her temple. Perhaps that was for the best, because her defenses were down, and he would surely see the truth of her feelings there. Resting his chin on her head, he murmured, “I can’t imagine anyone not loving your daughter.”</p><p>His words twisted in her heart, but she pushed the pain aside, closing her eyes as she curled into his embrace. In the back of her mind, she was afraid she’d just made an impossible mess of things. Although it had saved them some embarrassment in the short-term, now her mother knew of her love for Max – which was the truth – but thought the two were dating – which was a lie. Meanwhile, Max still thought she had feelings for Tobin and Simon – which was untrue, as was his belief that she <em>didn’t</em> have feelings for him – but knew the truth of their friends with benefits relationship.</p><p>It was a tangled mess of lies and misunderstandings, and Zoey didn’t have the first clue how to untangle things without losing Max completely. And that was one thing she couldn’t bear to do.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>He should tell her that he loved her.</em> The thought sprang to mind when he heard Zoey confess that she loved him, even though he knew in the back of his mind that it was a lie. Once there, it refused to leave him, the suddenness of this new conviction failing to diminish its persistence.</p><p>As Zoey lay next to him on the couch, curling her legs beneath her body and resting her head on his shoulder, he wrapped his arm around her and pressed a kiss against the top of her head. Was telling her that he loved her really such a bad idea? True, he knew she didn’t love him the way he loved her, but they were friends, and she liked him well enough to sleep with him. That had to mean <em>something</em>.</p><p><em>“Max is the person I’ve loved all along.” </em>Even though he knew she’d said it to convince her mom there was more between them than friendship and sex, he mentally replayed the words over the course of the evening, increasingly tempted to lie to himself that they betrayed the truth. He was hiding his feelings for her; was it possible she was doing the same for him?</p><p>The thought lurked in the back of his mind throughout Maggie’s visit, buoying his spirits. After she left, leaving behind an invitation for Max to join them for dinner later that week, he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. His good mood was slightly diminished when he saw the guilty expression on Zoey’s face as she closed the door and turned to face him. “I’m sorry about that,” she blurted quickly before he could say anything. “I should have talked to you before I told my mom we were dating. I panicked, and it was the first thing that came to mind.”</p><p>“That’s all right,” he reassured her. <em>He should tell her that he loved her.</em> “I didn’t really want to explain to her what we were doing in the shower before she showed up, either.” Zoey looked pained, and he wondered if his attempt at a joke had missed the mark. He wanted to tell her he loved her, but surely there was a better moment to do so than when she looked like she had indigestion. With a quick glance at the clock, he was inspired to change the subject. “Hey, are you hungry? Let’s go grab some food.”</p><p>“What?” she asked, thrown off-balance, but then she smiled and slipped her hand into his. “Yeah, sounds good.”</p><p>The rest of the night, Max tried not to think about the charade they would have to enact in front of her family later that week. In his heart, he knew it didn’t really mean anything. Still, when he made love to her later that evening, it was slow and deliberate, with her words ringing in his ears. <em>“Max is the person I’ve loved all along. Maybe…maybe a lot longer than I ever suspected.”</em></p><p>He would tell her he loved her when the time was right. He just needed to find the words.</p><hr/><p>Max hummed happily to himself as he walked into work. He’d been in a good mood all morning, which had only been bolstered when he’d received word that he’d won the lottery for a reservation for two to Hand-Picked, a new farm-fresh restaurant in the area. When he’d first put his name into the running, he’d intended to take Zoey. As friends. Now he had hopes that they could go together as something more. All thoughts of the restaurant lottery fled his mind and his smile fell a fraction when he saw Zoey across the room, talking to Tobin. She was leaning in towards him, pressing her journal against her chest as the two of them spoke quietly.</p><p>He had to suppress the quick stab of jealousy, reminding himself that he had no right to such an emotion. He and Zoey were sleeping together, but he knew her feelings for their coworker. For a moment, the reminder was almost enough to shake his resolve to tell her of his feelings, but he rallied quickly. She might have a crush on Tobin, but she was with him – in a manner of speaking, at least. Once again, he told himself that had to mean something.</p><p>His good mood was renewed when she turned to face him with a smile as he moved toward his desk. She looked so happy to see him. If she didn’t love him yet, her warmth toward him gave him hope that she could. “Hey,” she murmured as she approached and leaned against the edge of his desk.</p><p>“Hey,” he greeted in return, throwing her a soft smile as he leaned back in his chair. Then, scared that something in his expression would give something away – to their coworkers if not to her – he tried to school his features as he straightened. Darting a quick look toward Tobin, who appeared to remain mercifully ignorant of the undertone between the supposed best friends, he asked, “So…uh…what’s up?”</p><p>“I’ve been thinking,” she said, shooting a quick look around of her own. “About what I told my mom? Um, I think we should…talk about it.” When he raised his eyebrows at her, she lowered her voice and said urgently, “You know, get our story straight?”</p><p>He nodded. “Makes sense,” he agreed slowly. “You want to, uh, talk over lunch, or—”</p><p>“No, not here,” she interjected. “Um, drinks after work? Mo texted me earlier and asked if we wanted to meet up with him at the karaoke bar anyway.” At his surprised expression, she explained, “Apparently, he’s in the mood for loaded fries, and he likes the ones they serve there.”</p><p>Even as she spoke, Joan poked her head out of her office and called for her, and she straightened away from his desk. Not wanting to delay her, he gave a quick nod. “Sure.” It was only after she’d walked away that he realized he’d forgotten to tell her about Hand-Picked, but he comforted himself with the thought that he’d have a chance to do so at the bar that evening.</p><hr/><p><em>“Ooooh, we’re halfway there! Oh-oh! Livin’ on a prayer!” </em>Zoey grimaced slightly at the sound of off-key singing as she stepped into the bar, scanning the crowd before quickly moving to Mo’s table. Throwing her friend a grin, she slid into the chair across from him just as the waitress slid a large platter of loaded fries onto the table. Pausing only long enough to give the waitress her order, Zoey waited until the other woman was moving away to point out, “You realize that this level of torture could qualify for a war crime, right?” She jerked her chin toward the stage in case Mo was at a loss as to what she meant.</p><p>Mo shrugged as he lifted a fry into his mouth, closing his eyes in pleasure when the melted cheese and bacon hit his tongue. “Worth it, though.” Shooting a quick glance around, he leaned forward and lowered his voice to demand, “I assume we don’t have a lot of time before your boytoy shows up, so tell me. What is going on with you two? You’re actually dating now?”</p><p>Zoey shook her head, taking a deep sip from the glass of wine the waitress slid onto the table before her as she passed by. “Not really,” she admitted, hearing the morose tone in her own voice. “I just panicked and told my mom that so she wouldn’t think I’m screwing Max just for fun.”</p><p>He lifted his eyebrows at her. “But you <em>are</em> screwing him just for fun, right?” Uncomfortable with the question – and the way it twisted in her stomach – she lifted one shoulder and looked away. “Straight people,” Mo huffed from across the table, prompting her to shoot him a quick look of confusion and dismay. When their gaze met, he rolled his eyes at her and said, “Here’s a wild idea. Why don’t the two of you <em>actually date</em>? After all, <em>you </em>know you’re head over heels for him. <em>I</em> know you’re head over heels for him. Your <em>heartsongs</em> know you’re head over heels for him. The only person who <em>doesn’t </em>know you’re head over heels for him is Max. So why don’t you make things easy for both of you and just tell him how you feel?”</p><p>Her heart leapt at the suggestion, even as her mind balked. With a forceful shake of her head, she protested, “Oh, no. I can’t do that.” He threw her a deadpan glare, so she explained, “Look, with everything I have going on …with my dad and…and everything, I’m not really in a position to date <em>anyone</em> right now. Not seriously. I think I’d just make a huge mess of things and hurt whoever I tried to date. Especially Max.”</p><p>Mo shook his head. “Or he could be there for you when you need him the most. The two of you together could be amazing and exactly what you need.”</p><p>“Or it could be a complete disaster,” she countered.</p><p>Her friend wasn’t willing to concede the point so readily. Instead, he changed tactics. “You told me he’s close with your family, so he knows what you’re going through. If there’s anyone who could understand, I’m sure—”</p><p>“<em>I’m</em> sure it would be a huge mistake to try anything serious with him right now. I shouldn't get seriously involved with <em>anyone </em>until I get my life sorted out.”</p><p>“Mmmm...you say that, but it kind of seems like your heartsongs are telling you otherwise.”</p><p>“Okay, maybe you're right, but Max is the absolute last person on the planet I want to date.”</p><p>Leaning back in his chair, her friend gazed at her with a skeptical expression on his face for a long minute. “Not bad. If it wasn’t for the fact I’ve heard your heartsong, I almost would have believed you actually meant that.”</p><p>“Yeah, me too,” she said with a forlorn sigh, taking another sip of her wine.</p><hr/><p><em>“Max is the absolute last person on the planet I want to date.”</em> The words echoed in his ears as he pushed his way toward the bar, barely seeing the crowd of people that surrounded him. On stage behind him, three twenty-something girls were belting out the lyrics to “I Will Survive” in voices that sounded like they could have been halfway decent if the bearers weren’t drunk, but getting drunk sounded like a fantastic idea to Max right at that moment.</p><p><em>“Max is the absolute last person on the planet I want to date.”</em> He’d arrived a few moments before and had seen Zoey and Mo deep in conversation at a table nearby. Feeling his face break into a smile, he’d edged his way through the crowd to greet them. They were too engrossed in their discussion to notice him, and he was just a few feet away when he caught the thread of their conversation. Or at least Zoey’s part of it.</p><p>Finally making his way to the bar, he ordered a shot of whiskey and downed it in one gulp as soon as the bartender slid it in front of him. It slammed into the back of his throat like a punch and burned the entire way down, but it didn’t even touch the pain in his chest.</p><p><em>“Max is the absolute last person on the planet I want to date.” </em>The last person? Really? Of course, he knew he came behind Tobin – which was galling enough. But <em>the last person on the planet?</em> Surely there were people she’d want to date less than him. Or so he would have thought, but he’d just heard from her own lips that wasn’t the case.</p><p>
  <em>“Max is the absolute last person on the planet I want to date.”</em>
</p><p>Holding up two fingers, he ordered more shots of the same, as well as a beer to serve as a chaser. Once again, he threw back the shots, telling himself that the tears that sprang to his eyes were due to the alcohol and not the heartache. Then, with a longing look at the bottle of whiskey that he hoped would chase his pain away, he grabbed his beer and turned back to the table.</p><p>At least, that was his intent, but he was delayed when he accidentally bumped into someone in his haste and distraction, sending her stumbling. Reaching out with one hand, he steadied her, his expression morphing into a quizzical look when he caught sight of her face. She looked familiar, and it took a few seconds to place her. “Sorry about that,” he said, leaning in so she would hear him over the crowd. “Ah…Autumn, right? From the coffee shop?”</p><p>Petite and pretty, she had to tilt her head back to look up into his face. “That’s right…black coffee, because you’re keeping it lean for the ladies?”</p><p>“I usually just go by Max,” he joked, coloring. “And you remember that, huh?” he asked, half-impressed, half-chagrined.</p><p>Her laugh was joyful. “It’s pretty memorable.”</p><p>He felt the sides of his mouth quirk up into a smile. “Yeah, well, between that and nearly bowling you over, I can’t imagine I’m making a very good impression.”</p><p>Tilting her head to the side, she threw him a flirtatious smile. “That’s okay. You can make it up to me. Buy me a drink?”</p><p>He was tempted to say yes, to lose his heartache in her clear blue eyes, but that only reminded him that Zoey was expecting him. Broken though his heart may be, it would be rude to keep her waiting. Besides, she deserved better. It wasn’t like she’d ever lied to him about the nature of their relationship. If he’d fooled himself into thinking there could be more between them, he had only himself to blame.</p><p>He also wasn’t the type to ignore that he was in a sort-of relationship with Zoey, peculiar and undefined though it might be. He’d never bothered to ask Zoey the parameters of their relationship – particularly in regards to the possibility of dating other people – because he’d never really wanted to date anyone but her. Truth be told, he still didn’t, but he knew he could no longer put his heart on hold for someone who clearly didn’t want it.</p><p>Still, while he was trying to reconcile himself to his broken heart, he wasn’t the type to be unfaithful. Even in non-relationship relationships, apparently. Which meant that, until they had established the level of fidelity that was expected in their friends-with-benefits situation, he would not cross that line.  “Ah, I’d love to,” he admitted, shooting a look over her head at Zoey’s table. Just then, the woman in question turned his way. Their eyes met, and her mouth curved into a warm smile that took his breath away.</p><p><em>God, she was beautiful. </em>He mercilessly pushed that thought aside, reminding himself of the words that had shattered his hopes only a few minutes before. <em>“Max is the absolute last person on the planet that I want to date.”</em></p><p>He felt his mouth twist into a grimace as he pulled his gaze away, trying to return his focus to the woman before him. She’d followed his line of sight, however, and her shoulders sagged slightly. “I see. I’ve always wondered if you and non-fat latte were dating.”</p><p>“Not dating, exactly,” he refuted her in a subdued voice. “It’s…complicated.”</p><p>Her smile was bright as she accepted his unspoken rejection with good grace. “Well, if it ever gets…<em>uncomplicated</em>, let me know,” she said as she scooted around him and continued on her earlier path.</p><p>Max stifled a sigh as he headed towards Zoey’s side, eyeing the seat she and Mo had reserved for him. When he finally made his way through the crowd, he grabbed the chair and pulled it around to the side of the circular table, increasing the distance between himself and Zoey in what he hoped was a casual gesture. Much to his relief, she didn’t seem to notice anything amiss in the action as she laughed at something Mo had said, and he forced a smile as he leaned back and sipped his drink.</p><p>A new group of patrons had taken the stage and began to belt out the first refrain of a song, prompting Mo to break off mid-sentence as he jumped to his feet. “I know they aren’t about to butcher Queen! It’s time for me to show these amateurs how it’s done,” he mumbled darkly as he abandoned them to push through the crowd toward the stage.</p><p>“All right. That was…unexpected,” Zoey said with a laugh as she watched him go.</p><p>“Zoey, I’ve been thinking about our fake-relationship,” he began, drawing her attention back to himself. When she turned to him, her eyes were bright and hopeful, and there was a smile on her face that fell when he continued, “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”</p><p>“You-you don’t?” she stammered, a tiny line forming between her brows. “Why not?”</p><p>Being so close to her, he could lean forward and capture her mouth in a kiss, letting his desire for her drown out the ache in his chest. While he struggled against the temptation to do just that, the waitress passed by, and he caught her attention long enough to request another beer and two more shots of whiskey. The ones he’d snuck at the bar had failed to do the job, but he had hope that these next two would be more successful.</p><p>Zoey shook her head when he asked if she wanted another drink, but the frown line between her brows grew. “Max, is everything okay?”</p><p>“Sure,” he agreed flippantly, throwing back the last of his beer. “I was just thinking…I know you don’t have a lot of time left with your dad. Do you really want to spend it lying to him?” It was not the full extent of his reservations on the subject of their fake relationship, but the thought had concerned him ever since the impromptu revelation.</p><p>Her gaze dropped to the table, and she sighed. “I suppose not,” she admitted. “But I already told my mom we were dating. If I tell her the truth now…I don’t…I don’t really know how to tell her.” She let her voice trail off, and he watched, entranced as she ran one finger along the rim of her glass.</p><p>He ached to grab her hand in his, to pull it to his mouth and press his lips against her skin, so he once again was unpitying of his heart as he brought her earlier words to mind. <em>“Max is the absolute last man on the planet that I want to date.” </em>It was enough to tear his attention away from her hand, and he leaned back in his chair with a soft groan.</p><p>The waitress approached with his drinks, and he went ahead and ordered two more shots before she could even set the one she carried on the table. He could already tell he would need more fortification than lay before him. Zoey’s expression of concern grew as the waitress nodded and walked away. “Max, are you sure—”</p><p>He nodded abruptly, throwing back each of the shots in turn. “I’m fine,” he said, slamming the glasses back onto the table. “Rough day.”</p><p>“Oh. Is there something I can—”</p><p>“Zoey, let me ask you a question. What are the rules of our…whatever this is?” he demanded, waving his hand in the air between them.</p><p>“The – the rules?” she asked in incomprehension.</p><p>“Yeah. I mean…can we date other people? No, wait, this isn’t exactly a relationship. It’s just sex, right? So can we have sex with other people?”</p><p>For just a moment, he could have sworn that a flash of pain crossed her features, but that seemed less likely to be a reflection of reality than the product of the numerous whiskey shots he’d imbibed in a short period of time. It seemed the alcohol was kicking in. <em>Finally</em>. He was looking forward to the dulled senses that would surely follow.</p><p>“You…want to have sex with other people?” she asked in a faint voice, though he again wasn’t sure if her voice just sounded faint through the haze of alcohol.</p><p>He threw back the shots that had mysteriously appeared before him and shrugged. “I don’t know…maybe. I haven’t decided. But if I wanted to, could I? Or is this…thing…we have exclusive?” He could hear the hard edge of his own voice and vaguely considered he should try to temper his emotions, but the whiskey had settled in just enough to dull his desire to try. “Wait, it can’t be exclusive, can it? Because you want to be with Tobin! Or was it Simon? I mean, isn’t that the point?”</p><p>She swallowed. “I thought the point was to get, um, Tobin out of my system.”</p><p>“Still. You love Tobin, right? So if you had a chance to be with him, I couldn’t stand in your way. So what are the rules? Are we allowed to date - or sleep with - other people are not?”</p><p>She shifted in her chair. “I…I hadn’t really thought about it,” she said awkwardly before continuing in a weak voice, “I guess…I don’t know that it’s a good idea. If someone in my family saw, they might think...well, they wouldn't understand.”</p><p>He nodded slowly, sipping his beer. “That’s not exactly fair, though, is it? It’s like we’re in a relationship without the actual relationship. You and I aren’t <em>together</em>. None of this is real. In fact, you’re in love with someone else. But I can’t go out and find someone else, too.”</p><p>Max had to tear his gaze away to watch the activity onstage when he saw Zoey’s tongue sweep across her lower lip in a self-conscious gesture. He’d hoped the whiskey would take away his pain, but it still remained as a dull ache in his chest. All it did was make it harder to resist the temptation to pull her into his lap and kiss her. <em>Damn it.</em></p><p><em>“Max is the absolute last person on the planet I want to date.” </em>He had to swallow heavily when he heard the words echo in his mind again, and he looked around for the waitress. Clearly, his level of whiskey consumption was inadequate.</p><p>“It could be real,” she said in a low voice, barely loud enough to be heard over the crowd. “If you want it to be.”</p><p>Even through his haze of inebriation, her words drew his attention back to her face, but her previous sentiment was still playing on an endless loop in his memory, and he threw her a wry smile. Her offer was an attempt to clarify the rules and make him feel better about the emotional limbo of their present situation. Not because it was what she really wanted. <em>“Max is the absolute last person on the planet I want to date.”</em></p><p>“No, thanks,” he said, shooting for a casual tone and landing somewhere around “flippant” instead. “A real relationship could actually go somewhere, and this one can’t, can it?”</p><p>“I don’t—”</p><p>“We don’t have to tell your mom we were lying. We could just tell her we broke up,” he suggested, cutting her off and returning the conversation to the previous topic. In the back of his mind, where his voice of reason lurked in an attempt to steer clear of the ocean of whiskey sweeping through his body, he wondered if he wasn’t being just a little bit cruel to her. But how could he be? He wasn’t trying to be mean; far from it. He was trying to establish the rules they should have clarified already. Her heart was clearly untouched; he was merely trying to protect what remained of his own.</p><p>She shot him a quick look as she seemed to scramble to pick up the thread of conversation. After a moment, she offered, “Days after we told her we were dating? You think she’d believe that? We’ve been friends for so long, it seems unrealistic that we would break up so soon, doesn’t it?”</p><p>The alcohol was making his brain fuzzy, so he rested one arm on the back of his chair and waved his hand in a vague gesture. “All right, so how long do we need to pretend? A week?” Given her feelings, cutting their fake relationship short had to be as much of a blessing to her as it would be comfort to him. Knowing what he did about her feelings – or lack thereof – for him, he could only imagine that pretending to date him would be some level of torture for her, which should not be prolonged any longer than necessary.</p><p>“A month?”</p><p>He shook his head. He couldn’t keep doing this to himself for a month. His liver wouldn’t be able to take it. “Two weeks?”</p><p>She wouldn’t look at him as she sucked her lower lip between her teeth. “How about we start dropping hints in two weeks and announce we’ve broken up in three?”</p><p>He nodded absently as we watched Mo leave the stage, and then he jumped to his feet. “You want to sing something?” he asked, changing topics once again. “I want to sing something.”</p><p>“I – what?” she asked, but his mind was already on the brilliance of this newest possible distraction as he headed towards the stage. One of the other patrons got there first and climbed up to tackle a song, but upon seeing the crowd, he seemed to lose his nerve as he darted away again. Max took advantage of the momentary confusion and skimmed the song list, quickly picking out a number.</p><p>His entire being yearned to look at Zoey, but wasn’t the point of the whiskey and the singing to get his mind off of her? When he sobered up, he’d find a way to reconcile himself to the fact that the two of them wanted such vastly different things. For now, he had to put some distance between them before the alcohol loosened his tongue, and he confessed all the things to her that she didn’t want to hear. Or, worse, his heart sang a song to her that it would be better to keep to itself.</p><p>If only he’d thought of that <em>before</em> he downed half a bottle of whiskey. But oh, well. Where discretion might fail him, karaoke would have to stand as sufficient distraction.</p><p>The DJ queued the song, and Max grabbed the microphone, scanning the crowd and using what little willpower he had to avoid looking Zoey’s way. It wasn’t a heartsong, but the words suited his mood – even if the upbeat tone didn’t – as he crooned, <em>“I’m not surprised not everything lasts. I’ve broken my heart so many times, I stopped keepin’ track. Talk myself in, I talk myself out, I get all worked up, then I let myself down.”</em></p><p>He heard a cheer from the table of drunk twenty-something girls nearby and watched as Autumn pushed through the crowd to stand at the foot of the stage. She threw him an encouraging smile as he continued,<em> “I tried so very hard not to lose it. I came up with a million excuses. I thought I thought of every possibility. And I know someday it’ll all turn out. You’ll make me work so we can work to work it out. And I promise you kid, that I’ll give so much more than I get…”</em></p><p>His voice faltered for a moment at that. Wasn’t that exactly his problem? He’d given more than he’d gotten in this non-relationship relationship with Zoey. More than he should have given. More than she’d asked for, and certainly more than she’d wanted.</p><p>Oh, he didn’t blame her for that. He blamed himself. <em>She’d </em>always been clear about what their relationship was – and wasn’t. He couldn’t lay any accusations on her doorstep otherwise. He was the foolish one who had held out hope against all reason. Who had, in fact, burdened her – whether or not she realized it – with feelings she didn’t expect or desire.</p><p>He wasn’t in any position to date someone new while Zoey held his heart, and even in his drunken state, he knew it wasn’t fair to lead anyone on. But he’d already told Autumn things were complicated. She understood that his heart wasn’t free. What harm could come from a little flirtation? Normally, he wouldn’t do such a thing – certainly not in front of the woman he was currently…well, not dating, but sleeping with. But given their peculiar relationship and her feelings, such a flirtation would likely reassure her that the status quo remained firmly intact. That theirs remained strictly a physical relationship with an underpinning of friendship. That she was not at risk of inconvenience in capturing his heart, even if she had unknowingly laid claim to it long ago.</p><p>The song had continued with him singing on autopilot as he was lost in his musings, so he turned his attention back to the crowd as she sang, <em>“I might have to wait, I’ll never give up. I guess it’s half timing, and the other half’s luck. Wherever you are, whenever it’s right, you’ll come out of nowhere and into my life. And I know that we can be so amazing. And baby, your love is gonna change me. And now I can see  every possibility.”</em></p><p>He sang and danced his way across the stage, prompting a chorus of shrieks from the table of drunken twenty-somethings when he winked at them and moved his hips as he sang, <em>“Promise you kid, I’ll give more than I get. Than I get, than I get than I get…” </em>For a few brief moments, strange as it was, he told himself that he was actually having <em>fun</em>, even with his broken heart. Zoey didn’t want him, but there had to be someone out there who would, who could help him forget her and take this pain away. The voice of reason expressed its conviction that he was fooling himself, but what was whiskey for, if not to bolster self-delusion? In fact, he told himself he was already getting over, even though he found himself watching her out of the corner of his eye throughout the song. Mo had returned to the table, and the two of them sat with their heads together, deep in conversation even as they threw the occasional glance his way.</p><p>The song finally came to an end, and Max made to return to his table, but the trio of drunken girls dragged him back on stage as they begged for an encore. He made a show of protesting, but it didn’t take much for him to relent, and he turned his attention back to the song list. This time, it took him a little longer to choose an appropriate number, one that would hopefully help him exorcise the demons that plagued him while still leaving Zoey ignorant that said demons existed in the first place.</p><p>He finally landed on a song that seemed likely to do the trick, and as the DJ queued it up, Autumn waved at the foot of the stage to get his attention. He bent closer to her so he could hear her call, “You thirsty?”</p><p>“I thought I was supposed to buy <em>you</em> a drink!” he shot back, not realizing at first that his microphone was still on. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zoey spin around in her chair to face the stage, but his perception was too fuzzy from alcohol to register the possible implication of her abrupt action.</p><p>“I changed my mind! Just trying to keep you on your toes!” He laughed but he didn’t answer right away, so she threw him a coy smile. “Come on, black coffee. You’re not making any kind of promise. It’s just a drink, and I’m good at getting people drinks. It’s kind of my job.”</p><p>Swayed by her logic and trying to hold on to the shreds of good humor that his previous song had prompted, Max grinned at her and nodded. He watched her weave her way through the crowd back to the bar as the DJ called to get his attention, as his song was about to start.</p><p>Doing a quick little spin, he lifted the microphone to his mouth and started to sing. <em>“I took two weeks’ vacation for the honeymoon. A couple tickets all-inclusive down to Cancul. I couldn’t get my money back, so I’m in seat 7A. I’m getting drunk on a plane.”</em></p><p>Several voices in the crowd cheered, apparently already having consumed enough alcohol that any mention of being drunk was met with greater enthusiasm than warranted. Grinning, he continued, <em>“I bet the fella on the aisle thought I was crazy. ‘Cause I taped your picture to the seat back right beside me. Now I’ve got empty mini bottles fillin’ both our trays. I’m getting drunk on a plane.”</em></p><p>Autumn was weaving her way back through the crowd, as he belted out, <em>“Buyin’ drinks for everybody but the pilot, it’s a party. Got this 737 rocking like a G6. Stewardess is somethin’ sexy, leanin’ pourin’ Coke and whiskey. Told her about my condition, got a little mile-high flight attention.” </em>She had reached the stage, so he leaned down, but instead of taking the drink he offered, he grabbed her hand and jerked his head, silently offering for her to join him on stage. She grinned and nodded, silently accepting his hand up and then passing him his drink, dancing next to him as he continued, <em>“It’s Mardi Gras up in the clouds! I’m up so high, I may never come down. I’ll try anything to drown out the pain. They all know why I’m getting drunk on a plane.”</em></p><p>Out in the crowd, Autumn noticed someone wearing a hat and gestured wildly for them to pass it up to the stage. Wholesome and charming, she was hard to resist, particularly when the way had already been paved with alcohol, so the stranger did so with little hesitation. When it was finally in hand, she placed it on his head before spinning around and dancing with her back against him while he sang, <em>“We had this date marked on the calendar forever. We’d take that new wed limo airport ride together. I feel like a plastic groom alone there at the top of the cake. So, hey, I’m getting drunk on a plane.”</em></p><p>He took Autumn’s hand and spun her around, then yelled into the microphone, “Can we get some drinks out here?” The bartender looked skeptical, but he nodded as he threw himself into the chorus. He didn’t know if it was the charity of inebriation or a vague hope that buying drinks for the crowd had helped the man in the song and so might help him, but he made a wide circle with his arm, trying to convey that he was buying the house a round as he sang, <em>“Buyin’ drinks for everybody but the pilot, it’s a party. Got this 737 rocking like a G6. Stewardess is somethin’ sexy, leanin’ pourin’ Coke and whiskey. Told her about my condition, got a little mile-high flight attention. It’s Mardi Gras up in the clouds! I’m up so high, I may never come down. I’ll try anything to drown out the pain. They all know why I’m getting drunk on a plane.”</em></p><p>He took a sip of his drink, his eyes unconsciously straying towards Zoey, where he found her watching him askance. Not so for the rest of the crowd, which was in good humor thanks to his offer for a free drink. He didn’t have long to ponder the expression on Zoey’s face as the song continued, drawing his attention back to the crowd and away from the woman who had prompted his need to lose himself in alcohol and karaoke in the first place. <em>“On my way home I’ll bump this seat right up to first class so I can drink that cheap champagne out of a real glass. And when we land I’ll call her up and tell her kiss my ass.” </em>He grinned at the crowd, and they cheered him on. <em>“’Cause, hey, I’m drunk on a plane.” </em>Once more, he sang the chorus, dancing across the stage with the lack of inhibitions exhibited only by the truly drunk.</p><p>Finally, however, he came to a stop in the middle of the stage and sang the final few bars. <em>“I might be passed out in the baggage claim. But right now, I’m drunk on a plane.” </em></p><p>As the crowd cheered, he spun around and tossed the microphone to the DJ and he leaned in to thank Autumn for the drink and the company, but a hand on his chest stopped him. “Hey, there black coffee. You wouldn’t be trying to make nonfat latte jealous, would you? Because I don’t play those kind of games.”</p><p>He lifted up his hands, palms out, in a gesture of surrender. “No games! I’m not trying to make her jealous! That’s kind of the problem, actually. It wouldn’t work, even if I wanted to.”</p><p>“Because it’s complicated?” she suggested dubiously.</p><p>Max shrugged and said with deceptive lightness of tone. “Not that complicated, I guess. I love her. She doesn’t love me. I am, in fact, the last man on the planet she’d ever be interested in. Her words, not mine. So see? I can’t be playing games when she doesn’t want the prize.” The next singer was weaving their way to the DJ, so Max said, “Now, come on. We’d better clear the stage.”</p><p>Jumping down, he spun around and held his hands up for her, lifting her easily to put her down next to him. When he moved to release her, however, she tightened her hold on his biceps. “It’s her loss, you know,” she blurted.</p><p>At that moment, it didn’t <em>feel</em> like it was her loss. It felt like it was his. But he forced a smile anyway and said, “Yeah, but that’s what whiskey’s for, right?”</p><p>Leaning up on her toes, Autumn gave him a friendly kiss on the cheek. “I’ve changed my mind. I think I’ll take you up on that drink, after all.”</p><p>“Autumn…I’m not really in a place…” he began slowly, but she shook her head, cutting him off.</p><p>“I know. You need time to work through things. But when you do…you know where to find me.”</p><p>With one more sweet smile, she grabbed the hat off his head to return it to its rightful owner. Then she pulled away and melted into the crowd, leaving Max alone. Not for long, as it turned out, as one of the trio of drunken girls had made her way over to him and thew her arms around his neck with an offer to be his stewardess if he wanted. With a gentle refusal, he pulled out of her embrace and headed back to his table, where Zoey and Mo were deep in conversation, their voices pitched too low for him to hear as they whispered urgently back and forth.</p><p>Threw fell silent as he drew near, so Max, spirits lifted from the alcohol and the catharsis offered by the music, collapsed back into his chair and shot Mo a quick grin. “Well? Any chance you’ll sing another song tonight?”</p><p>Mo shook his head, drawing to his feet. “Nope. If you want my opinion, you two are too much of a mess, and I do not have time to help you sort yourselves out.”</p><p>Max watched in confusion as Mo left, but he lacked the presence of mind to mull over that assertion for too long. Instead, he turned back to Zoey. “Want another drink?”</p><p>“I think you’ve had enough, don’t you?” she demanded shortly, jumping to her feet. “I think I want to go home.”</p><p>Shrugging, Max stood and made his way to the bar to pay his tab – which, thanks to the round he’d bought during his song, was significantly higher than usual but nothing he couldn’t handle. That task done, he left a generous tip and then wrapped his arm around Zoey’s waist, resting his palm on her lower back as he guided her gently through the crowd and out of the bar.</p><p>His footsteps weren’t entirely steady as they made their way down the sidewalk, and a tense silence filled the air between the until she finally snapped and whirled on him. “Okay, do you want to tell me what that was back there?” she demanded, grabbing his arm to pull him to a stop.</p><p>Max looked at her in confusion. “What was what? My singing? It’s a karaoke b—”</p><p>“No,” she interjected. “Not the…well, not just the singing. I mean…all of it! What is up with you? Is this about the barista? Autumn, right? Is that what brought this on? You want to be–to sleep with her?”</p><p>“I don’t want to sleep with Autumn,”  he told her honestly.</p><p>“Then what <em>is</em> this? You’ve been acting weird all night!”</p><p>She was so beautiful in the dim city lights, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Just sober enough to know he stood the risk of being burned, but too drunk to care. He could tell the moment she saw the desire in his face, because her eyes went wide and he heard her catch her breath. “What do you want this to be, Zo? What do you want from me?”</p><p>“I-I know it's not fair, but I don't want you to sleep with someone else. I want you to take me home,” she whispered. “I want you to tell me wh—” but before she could finish her sentence, he’d wrapped his hand behind her neck and pulled her lips against his.</p><p>“You taste like whiskey,” he murmured against her mouth before sucking her lower lip gently between his teeth.</p><p>“<em>You</em> taste like whiskey,” she refuted him with a soft moan.</p><p>Did he? He could swear it was her, intoxicating him with her smell, her taste, the feel of her body against his. But it didn’t matter. <em>“Max is the absolute last person on the planet I want to date.” </em>The memory still stung, but even that didn’t matter at the moment. What mattered was that she was in his arms, and for however briefly he would be allowed to hold her, he didn’t want anyone else either.</p><p>He didn’t know how the two of them made their way back to his apartment, but as soon as they stumbled inside, he kicked the door closed before pressing her against it. Lifting her into his arms, he felt her legs go around his waist as he nuzzled the side of his neck.</p><p>“W-wait,” she breathed into his ear. “This isn’t right. You’re drunk.”</p><p>“Am I?” he murmured against her skin.</p><p>Her laugh was strained and breathless. “With what you’ve had to drink? I’m pretty sure you are.”</p><p>He couldn’t argue with his alcohol consumption, but he could debate the degree of impact. Straightening, he threw her a wicked grin. “Well, let’s see, Whiskey. I think this calls for a sobriety test.”</p><p>“Do you even know what’s involved in one of those?” she challenged him, though she didn’t squirm out of his arms.</p><p>“I’ve watched movies!” he protested. “Let’s see. Memory.” He bent his head to press a kiss against the side of her neck, even as he swept his hands beneath her shirt to stroke her soft skin in the way he knew would make her shiver with longing.</p><p>Biting off a moan, she whispered, “Aren’t you supposed to recite your ABCs backwards or something?”</p><p>“This is better,” he argued. “What’s next? Oh, right. Dexterity.” Setting her gently onto her feet, he knelt before her, fumbling with the button of her pants before pulling them down her legs.</p><p>Her fingers bit into his shoulders even as she protested, “Max, I don’t think this is what they have in mind when they—”</p><p>His fingers were clumsy, but they’d never said what <em>part</em> of him had to demonstrate dexterity, and Max was more than willing to exploit that loophole. Lifting her thigh, he braced it on his shoulder as he moved between her legs, teasing her with his tongue as he stroked her with his hands.</p><p>“I – Jesus, Max—” Zoey protested weakly, pressing herself against him as her head fell back against the door. “I’m pretty sure…this isn’t…the official test,” she managed through her moans.</p><p>Pulling his head back, he slid three fingers inside her, stroking her in a smooth, steady rhythm as his thumb swept around her clit. He adhered to the spirit, if not the letter of the law. He could still taste her on his lips as he asked, “What’s next? Balance?” He tried to rise to his feet and staggered, falling against her instead. She felt so good, he thrust his hips against her, his body aching to be inside her, and was gratified when she pressed back against him. “Okay, there I might need a little help.”</p><p>Zoey’s eyes were dark with desire as she braced her palms against his chest. “Mo was right. We really are a mess.” But before he could ask her what she meant, she trailed one hand down his arm and linked her fingers in his. “Come on, Max. Let's get you in bed.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zoey didn’t know what awoke her, but the early morning light spilling through the bedroom windows was still rose-colored and hazy, and the other side of the bed was empty when she opened her eyes. Her mind still bleary from sleep, and she blinked, reaching one hand to touch the cold sheets where Max had fallen asleep the night before. At a soft noise on the other side of the room, she lifted her head off the pillow and looked around until her gaze met his.</p><p>He had just finished fastening his pants, and he threw her a sheepish smile when he saw she was awake. Moving to the bed, he stretched out on top of the covers, pressing a soft kiss against her bare shoulder, where the sleeve of her tee had slid up. “Hey,” he murmured. “I’m sorry. I didn’t wake you, did I?”</p><p>She shook her head in denial, even though she couldn’t have said what had woken her if she’d tried. “No,” she reassured him.</p><p>At her questioning look, he explained, “I woke up about an hour ago and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I thought I’d head in and get some work done. It’s still early; you should get some more rest.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah. I’d hate for that boss of yours to crack the whip. I hear she’s awful,” she joked.</p><p>“She has her good points,” he teased gently in return. His freshly-shaven skin was smooth against hers as he pressed a soft kiss against her lips before jumping back to his feet.</p><p>Although she lay back on the pillow, she didn’t close her eyes, silently watching as he made his way toward the closet. “Oh, my mom texted me last night. She wants us to suggest a day that works for dinner. What do you think about tonight?”</p><p>He shot her a quick smile over his shoulder. “Sure. Tonight sounds good.”</p><p>He seemed so cheerful, it was almost hard to believe this was the same man who had been so mercurial in mood the night before. She almost hated to raise the subject, since she didn’t want to remind him of it if it had been the product of too much whiskey, but she had to know. “So…I was thinking. About what you were saying last night. About – about ending things. Between us, I mean. I – I don’t know if it’s really a good idea. What if we tell my mom that we broke up and then she comes over and finds us together again? It’ll just send mixed signals, don’t you think?”</p><p>She didn’t even realize she was holding her breath as she awaited his response, except that it caught in her throat when she saw him step to the closet doorway, to lean against the door jam. His head was bowed, his gaze falling to his bare feet, and when she saw his mouth twist, her heart did the same thing. She knew what he was going to say before he even opened his mouth.</p><p>“Yeah…I know. That’s why…” He hesitated, lifting his head to look at her. “I think, when we tell your parents that we ended things…we should end it for real. Go back to being friends. Without the benefits.”</p><p>Sitting up, Zoey curling her legs under the covers to press them against her chest. “Oh.”</p><p>Moving quickly towards the bed, he rushed to explain, “It’s just…at that point, we’ll have been doing <em>this</em>,” he gestured between the two of them to the rumpled bed, “for about a month. I know the whole point was to try to get you over Tobin, and a month probably isn’t long enough for you to stop having feelings for him. But it should be enough for you to know if you <em>could</em>. And at least…well, if having sex with, um, with someone else would have helped you get over him, it would have at that point. You know?”</p><p>Like a puppet on a string, controlled by a force outside of her body, Zoey felt her head bob up and down in agreement and felt her mouth form the words to agree. “Oh, of course! It totally makes sense. It was just a surprise, that’s all.”</p><p>Max looked relieved. “Okay. Good. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings or make you think that I haven’t <em>enjoyed</em> the time we’ve shared together. It’s just—”</p><p>“No, I get it!” she cut in. She didn’t really want to hear him explain again. The only thing that mattered was that she was losing him. “You said it last night. This isn’t fair to you. And it really should be enough time to get over, um, Tobin. You don’t have to worry. No hurt feelings here or anything.”</p><p>Shouldn’t she be happy? This was more or less what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? It was like she told Mo the night before: she didn’t want to date Max. She didn’t want her romantic feelings to ruin her relationship with her best friend. She should be relieved that an end-date was in sight, that they were both able to handle this situation like adults and agree on the conclusion to their sexual relationship without an inconvenient, messy scene. Happy that things would go back to normal between them. Glad that a situation that could have resulted in disaster was ending with a minimum of fuss.</p><p>She was happy, she told herself as Max repeated, “Okay. Good. So…three weeks, right?”</p><p>Zoey nodded. <em>She was happy. </em>And if Max was bothered by the looming end of their friends with benefits situation, it didn’t show in his face or in his voice. His mood was a little subdued, perhaps, but he seemed relaxed. Content. <em>Relieved</em>, even. “Right. Three weeks.”</p><p>With one more nod, he ducked back into the closet, and she heard the faint click of hangers hitting each other. A slight burning behind her eyes made her blink, and she told herself she should lay down again, pretend she might get more rest even if she knew sleep would not return to her this night. But then she heard the soft strain of a piano, and she lifted her head off her knees, well aware of what was coming.</p><p>When Max began to sing his heartsong, she had to strain to hear him, since he was still in the closet and his voice was soft and low. <em>“Two shots of happy, one shot of sad. You think I’m no good, well I know I’ve been bad. Took you to a place, now you can’t get back. Two shots of happy, one shot of sad.”</em></p><p>Zoey caught her breath, leaning forward as he stepped out of the closet, pulling a shirt over his head. Although he’d seemed glad to have resolved the issue of the end of their sexual relationship, his heartsong implied he was conflicted, at least. Watching him sing, his expression was introspective and sad as he walked to his dresser, to grab his wallet and phone.</p><p>
  <em>“Walk together down a dead end street. We were mixing the bitter with the sweet. Don’t try to figure out what we mighta had. Just two shots of happy, one shot of sad.”</em>
</p><p>Turning his back toward her, she saw him rest his hands on the edges of the dresser, his back curved slightly as he bowed his head and continued to sing. <em>“I’m just a singer, some say a sinner. Rollin’ the dice, not always a winner. You say I’ve been lucky, well hell, I’ve made my own. Not part of the crowd, but not feeling alone.”</em></p><p>Zoey wondered if she should rise and approach him, but then he slipped his wallet into his pocket and spun around to face her. The smile on his face was tight and didn’t light up the rest of his face as he walked toward the bed, bending down to give her a quick kiss goodbye.</p><p>
  <em>Under pressure, but not bent out of shape. Surrounded, we always found an escape. Drove me to drink, but hey, that’s not all bad. Two shots of happy, one shot of sad.”</em>
</p><p>The music of invisible violins swelled as he moved into the other room, and she almost tripped over the edge of the sheet as she jumped to her feet to follow. He had paused by the window to look out over the city, and she darted around him, standing between him and the door. She didn’t want him to leave like this, though she couldn’t find the words to ask him to stay.</p><p>Stepping up to her, Max curved his hand against her lower back, carrying her with him as he spun. Their bodies moved together back and forth in a dance to the song only she could hear. Then the violins faded, and he picked up the song again. <em>“Maybe it’s just talk, saloon singin’. The chairs are all stacked, the swingers stopped swingin’. You say I hurt you, you put the finger on yourself. Then after you did, you came crying for my help.”</em></p><p>Zoey put her hands on his chest and he slowed to a stop. His hand lifted off the small of her back, to brush the back of his fingers along the curve of her cheek. She felt a tear spill over, to travel the path his fingers had just trailed, and he brushed it away with his thumb.</p><p><em>“Two shots of happy, one shot of sad. I’m not complaining, baby, I’m glad. You call it compromise, well what’s that? Two shots of happy, one shot of sad.”</em> He pressed a kiss against the top of her head and then pulled out of her arms, striding quickly to the front door.</p><p>As he closed the door behind him, she heard him sing one final time, <em>“Two shots of happy, one shot of sad.”</em></p><p>He was gone, and Zoey carefully sank onto the couch, every move slow and deliberate, as though she was afraid she would shatter if she moved too quickly. But that was ridiculous, of course. Why would she shatter? This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? She would miss the evenings spent with Max, curled up in his arms, but she wouldn’t lose him completely. She’d still have him in her life. He’d still be her friend. That was what mattered most, and it was what she’d sworn to Mo that she really wanted.</p><p>In a few weeks, all of this would be over. They’d go back to…whatever it was they had been to each other before they were friends with benefits. And Zoey was fine with that. More than fine! Wasn’t she?</p><p>Except…they wouldn’t <em>really</em> go back to the way things had been, if Zoey was being honest with herself. She’d never be able to forget what it felt like to wake up knowing Max was hers. She’d never forget the touch of his hand or the taste of his kiss. She would…</p><p><em>No</em>, she told herself sternly. She shouldn’t go there. It didn’t matter what <em>she</em> would remember, because <em>Max</em> would eventually forget all of those things. He’d move on. Find someone new. Maybe get married and have kids and a white picket fence and…the thought twisted in Zoey’s stomach like curdled milk, making her want to shy away from it. But she didn’t deserve such mercy, not when all of this was her own doing, her own choice. So she closed her eyes and imagined Max on his wedding day, standing at the altar with…someone else.</p><p>The woman in her imagination was petite, with long blonde hair, blue eyes, and a sweet smile. In fact, she looked a lot like Autumn, and the mental image was like a swift kick to the gut. No, Max wouldn’t marry Autumn, would he? She couldn’t possibly be his type. She was too…too…</p><p>“Too what?” she asked herself, her demand shattering the silence that had fallen throughout the apartment in Max’s absence. Too sweet? Kind? Thoughtful? When had those become marks against a person?</p><p>At any rate, it didn’t matter what Autumn was or what she wasn’t, because the point was that Max would find someone else one day. Someone other than Zoey. He’d find love with someone who would make him happy, and the two of them would probably have a long, idyllic life together. And Zoey would…watch. She’d stand on the sidelines and watch the man she loved be happy with someone else. She’d watch him smile at someone else and laugh someone else. Every time he kissed that mystery woman, Zoey would remember what it had been like when his kiss had been hers and it would…</p><p>“It would be fine,” she told herself firmly, but she knew it was a lie, because the picture in her imagination was no longer of Max and a faceless, generic stranger. It was her. She was the woman in white by his side and as much as she wanted to believe she was okay with the thought of him finding someone else – that it was indeed what she <em>wanted</em> – she knew having to watch Max with anyone else…it would kill her.</p><p>Pressing the palms of her hands against her eyes, she curled her body forward, drawing her elbows towards her stomach, and tried one last time to convince herself of the lie. “It’s fine,” she whispered, her voice weak and wavering. “It’s for the best. It’s fi—<em>Was there something more I could have done? Or was I not meant to be the one? Where’s the life I thought we would share? And should I care?”</em></p><p>Oh, no. No, no, no, no no. This wasn’t supposed to happen. When she’d started hearing other people’s heartsongs, she’d thought her period of self-compulsive singing had passed and she was safe. But she couldn’t stop the slow, sad song from leaving her lips any more than she could keep from rising to her feet.</p><p>
  <em>“And will someone else get more of you? Will she go to sleep more sure of you? Will she wake up knowing you’re still there? And why should I care?”</em>
</p><p>Not of her own volition, she returned to the bedroom, her hand trailing along the top of Max’s dresser before she slipped into his closet. With his clothes surrounding her, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply. It was probably her imagination, but she could swear that the scent of his cologne still lingered on the air, haunting her. Comforting and painful.</p><p>
  <em>“There’s always one to turn and walk away. And one who just wants to stay. But who said that love is always fair? And why should I care?”</em>
</p><p>She couldn’t control her movements, but whatever caused her compulsive singing and dancing took pity on her and carried her back out of the closet. Max’s side of the bed was rumpled from the night before, the sheets cool beneath her palms and brushing against her bare thighs as she sank onto the soft surface long since gone cold.</p><p><em>“Should I leave you alone here in the dark? Holding my broken heart—” </em>She dragged out those last two words, as though her head – or her heart – were determined that she listen without shying away.</p><p>
  <em>“While a promise still hangs in the air—”</em>
</p><p>Her compulsion left as abruptly as it had swept over her, and she fell silent without finishing the last four words to the song. Not that she needed to. She knew what her heartsong was trying to tell her. She’d known it all along, even as she tried to convince herself otherwise.</p><p>She was fooling herself when she said she was okay with the thought of losing Max, or that she even wanted things to go back to the way they used to be. She could hide behind her cowardice and tell herself that it was more important to retain his friendship than to have his love, but the truth was, she would lose him one way or another. Even if she didn’t lose him to a failed relationship, she knew she’d never be able to watch him fall in love with someone else. She wouldn’t be able to break her own heart over and over like that and pretend everything was okay. Eventually, the pain would be too much and she’d have to walk away – for his sake as much as hers.</p><p>Zoey’s chin dropped to her chest and her hands curled into fists at her side, digging into the mattress that supported her, and she sucked in three deep breaths to push the pain her own imagination had inflicted upon her away. “All right, Zoey,” she told herself with renewed confidence as she raised her head. “Enough feeling sorry for yourself. If you don’t want to lose Max, you have to do something about it.”</p><p>Jumping to her feet, she raced to the bathroom to start getting ready for work. There was no chance she’d fall back to sleep, even if she tried. As she brushed her teeth, she stared at her reflection in the mirror while her mind raced, trying to come up with some sort of plan.</p><p>She wasn’t sure how she would manage it, but somehow, she had to make Max fall in love with her. And she only had three weeks in which to do it.</p><p>Which begged the question…how was she supposed to get her best friend – and friend with benefits – to realize the two of them could be so much more?</p><hr/><p>“Was it weird? Sleeping together when the two of you had been friends for so long?” Emily’s question, delivered in her usual mixture of curiosity and bluntness, caused Max to choke on his sip of water, and he spluttered in an attempt to regain control of himself.</p><p>“Wh-what?” he wheezed, even as Zoey rolled her eyes good-naturedly at her sister-in-law, drawing out her name in exasperated amazement.</p><p>Emily looked unabashed. “What? It’s a perfectly normal question!”</p><p>Max swallowed again – this time managing the task without incident – and attempted to deflect. “Probably no weirder than it was for you and David when you two started dating.”</p><p>She shrugged. “Oh, we weren’t friends first.”</p><p>Beside her, David looked a little smug. “Yeah, Emily was just after me for my body when we first met. It took a while, but I finally brought her around.”</p><p>Max threw Zoey a panicked look, even as Maggie returned to the room from the kitchen. “All right, you two. No more giving Max and Zoey a hard time.” He was about to breathe a sigh of relief when she continued, “Though there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Sex is a healthy part of most relationships. I have a copy of the <em>Kama Sutra</em> around here somewhere if you ever want to—”</p><p>“Dinner was delicious, Maggie, but I think I ate too much. I think I need to stretch my legs a little. Zoey, do you want to show me around the garden?” Max blurted.</p><p>“Yes!” she agreed loudly, the pink tinge on her cheeks a sign mirroring his own. Scrambling to her feet, she tucked her hand in his and walked with him outside, softly closing the door behind her. He waited until he heard it latch into place to give in to the emotion that was overcoming him, and he covered his mouth in a desperate attempt to muffle the sound.</p><p>“Max? I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize they were going to do that. Please don’t be up—” she began, but her voice trailed off when she put her hand on his arm and felt him tremble. “Max?”</p><p>He managed to stagger a few feet away from the door before his hand was no longer sufficient to stifle his amusement, and he grabbed Zoey’s hand and darted into the yard to put some distance between the two of them and the house. When he thought it was safe, he dropped her hand and gave into his laughter, bracing his palms on his knees as he guffawed. Once he had regained control of himself, he rubbed his face with one hand and grinned down at the woman who was looking at him in mild concern.</p><p>“Well, that was…interesting,” he commented, once his laughter had subsided.</p><p>She grimaced. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what that was about. I don’t know why they’re acting weird. It’s not like you haven’t joined us for dinner a hundred times before.”</p><p>He lifted his shoulders in a casual shrug. “Nothing wrong with a little good-natured hazing. I’ve been here as your friend before, but now I’m the potential new guy in the family.” A beat of silence fell between them, and then he amended his statement. “Well, they think I’m the potential new guy in the family, at least.”</p><p>She didn’t say anything, she just gave his hand a tug and led him behind some hydrangea bushes. There, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a. kiss. When she pressed her body against his, he sucked in a deep breath. “Here?” he asked, even as he ducked his head to return her kiss. “Now?”</p><p>“They won’t come outside and check on us,” she reassured him in an undertone, fisting one hand in his hair and giving it a gentle tug.</p><p>He wasn’t convinced, but he turned, maneuvering her back against a tree anyway. It felt daring – and dangerous – and that somehow heightened the intoxication of her kiss. Pivoting, he pressed her back against the tree, moaning deep in his throat when she raised one leg and hooked her ankle behind his knee.</p><p>In the cold light of day, it was easy to convince himself he was doing the right thing by setting an end-date for their peculiar arrangement. But when the sun went down and he held her in this arms like this, it was hard to believe he could ever let her go. He was doing the right thing, wasn’t he? Part of him rebelled against the idea. He knew Zoey didn’t love him – would probably never love him – but he still had her in his arms and in his heart. She’d never lied to him and pretended she wanted more, so nothing had really changed. Was he indeed acting prematurely in calling things off?</p><p>Lowering his hand to her thigh, he slid it up her bare skin to her hip. “You wear more skirts than you used to,” he pointed out, nibbling on the side of her neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her devilish smile as she tilted up on her toes, pressing herself against him. Slipping his hand between her thighs, he slid two fingers beneath the line of her panties, teasing her outer folds.</p><p>Zoey breathed his name, the sound swallowed by his kiss, as she pressed against her palm. “Please,” she moaned when he thrust his fingers inside her, teasing her clit with the pad of his thumb. “Please,” she repeated, this time slightly louder.</p><p>“Shhhh,” he breathed into her ear, squeezing his eyes shut and sucking in slow, deep breaths in an effort to retain control. But Zoey didn’t seem sympathetic to his situation, reaching between their bodies to unbutton his pants. She fumbled with his zipper for a few seconds, and then he felt her fingers wrap around him, cool against his heated skin.</p><p>“I…god…we shouldn’t…this is…we shouldn’t be doing this,” he managed through gritted teeth, even as he tucked one hand beneath her thigh and lifted her leg over his hip, bending his knees slightly to make up for the height difference. Then, with one thrust, he slid inside her, gritting his teeth to stifle his own moan of pleasure.</p><p>He couldn’t believe he was doing this, having sex with Zoey out in the open. Hidden behind some hydrangea bushes in her own parents’ back yard. It was ridiculous. Absurd. Completely inappropriate. But all it took was one look from her, and he was entirely at her mercy. He couldn’t tell her no if he wanted to, which begged the question how he would ever walk away from her when their time together was through.</p><p><em>“Max is the absolute last man on the planet that I want to date.”</em> Maybe so, but he was the man she’d dragged into the bushes and seduced, and that wasn’t nothing. Her head had fallen forward, her forehead resting on the curve of his shoulder, so he threaded his fingers through her hair and tugged her head back to expose her neck, soft and pale in the moonlight.</p><p>In the back of his mind, he was well aware that they had to be careful to not be overheard, and so he thrust into her with slow, strong, deliberate strokes. She reached for him, and he grabbed her hand, placing it on the trunk of the tree above her head, pinning it in place. If he was going to retain any shred of his self-composure, he didn’t dare let her touch him.</p><p>But Zoey’s answering smile was bright, her teeth flashing in the moonlight when she whispered, “Harder.” In response, his fingers dug into the soft skin of her thigh as he thrust into her, momentarily forgetting their position until he saw her quick grimace of pain when the rough tree bark bit into the curve of her back.</p><p>Muttering a soft curse, Max drew away from Zoey, and she barely had a chance to protest before he spun her around until her back was against him. Then he tilted her forward until she braced her palms against the tree and slid his hands under her skirt to grab the line of her panties. They had been bunched uncomfortably to the side during his previous ministrations, and he slid them quickly down her legs and helped her step out of them before tucking them carefully into his pocket.</p><p>Then he rose behind her, framing her hips in his palms. With her weight braced against the tree, she spread for him in silent invitation and he thrust inside her once more. Zoey’s breath escaped in a hiss, and he whispered, “Shhh. We have to be quiet, sweetheart.” But even as he drew his hips away before thrusting forward once more, he slid one hand down her stomach, slipping his fingers between her thighs to resume the soft, teasing strokes against her clit.</p><p>She moaned something unintelligible, the word ending on an almost inaudible hiss.</p><p>“Tell me you want me,” he growled in her ear as she shoved off the tree with one hand, wrapping her arm behind his neck as she pressed her back against his chest. The wispy strands of hair at the nape of her neck tickled his nose, but he didn’t slow down, pressing his hips against hers again and again. “Tell me.”</p><p>“I-I want you,” she breathed.</p><p>He wanted to hear her say it louder. He wanted to hear her say his name, to know for sure he was the only man in her mind right now. Perhaps he needed to hear that she wanted him in some way, even if it wasn’t the way he wanted her. But even as he opened his mouth to say that one little word – <em>“louder” </em>– he remembered where they were and bit back the demand before it could leave his lips.</p><p>“I love you.” The words were so softly spoken, he wasn’t even sure he heard correctly, and there his thrusts stilled as he tried to catch sight of her face. Her head was thrown back, braced against his chest, and even in the darkness, he could tell that her eyes were closed.</p><p>Max’s stomach sank. Maybe he hadn’t heard what he thought he heard, but if he had, he didn’t have to stretch his imagination to know who she was thinking of in that moment. Even as he watched, her eyes flew open and she blinked, turning her head to look up into his face, her expression bewildered. “Max?” she breathed at last.</p><p>In the light cast by the full moon, he thought he could see the blush that tinged her cheeks, though the moonlight probably wasn’t bright enough to make it anything more than a product of his imagination. He felt her start to twist in his arms, intending to turn to face him, but he halted the motion, pulling her back against his chest instead. He didn’t want her to see his face, afraid his own feelings would be visible there, and so he used his hands to distract her as he resumed the strong, steady thrusts of his hips.</p><p>She was trembling in his arms, and he knew she was about to come – even as a part of him felt sick that he knew her so well. Her breaths were coming out in strained, harsh pants, and he gently clapped one hand over her mouth to try to stifle the sound as he stroked her clit one more time. And then Zoey went rigid in his arms, her muscles tensing as she moaned, her teeth biting gently into the fleshy skin below his palm.</p><p>Max could feel his own climax nearing; he was on the edge, and every part of his body yearned to thrust into Zoey until he came to his own completion. But as soon as her orgasm began to subside, he pulled away from her with a muttered curse, almost shoving her forward as his willpower warred with his body’s aching need and barely – just barely – won out.</p><p>Spinning around, he staggered away a few steps and sucked in a few deep breaths, hoping the brisk evening air would calm his racing pulse. His body was still hard and throbbing, and he hissed a breath between his teeth as he tucked his erection back into his pants.</p><p>Behind him, Zoey sounded confused. “Max?” she asked gently. When he felt her hand between his shoulder blades, he jerked, pulling away from her. It wasn’t done out of anger but necessity – his self-control was hanging on by a thread as it was, and he knew how easily her touch could bring him to his knees.</p><p>“It’s okay,” he tried to reassure her as he desperately turned his mind to colder thoughts, but the words still came out harsher than he intended. Sucking in two more deep breaths of air, he felt his pulse start to slow a fraction and tried again. “It’s okay.” This time, his voice was strained, but it didn’t sound angry. “I just…I need a minute.”</p><p>“I-I don’t understand,” she breathed. “Why didn’t you—” She seemed too embarrassed to complete the question, as her words faded and drifted away.</p><p>He couldn’t tell her the truth – that the thought of coming inside her when she was thinking of someone else, when she had perhaps been thinking about her love for someone else – made him feel sick inside. So instead, he latched on to the first excuse that came to mind. “I didn’t…I was afraid we would make too much noise,” he offered lamely.</p><p>“Oh.” A beat of silence fell between them, and then she offered, “I thought…maybe I did something wro—"</p><p>He shook his head, cutting her off. Did she really not know what she’d said, or had he misheard her somehow? As much as he wanted to believe the latter, his memory had amplified and crystallized those three little words too clearly to allow him to believe she’d said anything else. Still, wounded though he was, she didn’t deserve punishment for feelings she didn’t return, so he turned and offered her a tight smile. Thwarted need thrummed through his entire body, setting his nerve endings on edge, but he was fairly certain his condition would no longer be apparent to others. “No,” he bit off, a bit harsher than intended. With a force of will, he softened his voice and tried again. “We should – uh – we should get back inside. We’ve been gone for a while.”</p><p>Uncertain and off-guard, Zoey stepped back from him, giving a quick nod as she ran her hands down her clothes, smoothing them into place. “Right. Um…so, how do I look?”</p><p>Max offered her his hand and tried not to sigh when he felt the weight of her palm in his. “Beautiful,” he admitted in a voice that was just a little wistful. “You always look beautiful.” That was part of the problem; he had no doubt her beauty would haunt him for years to come.</p><hr/><p>Mercifully, the evening didn’t last much longer. Although Max did his best to feign his former ease, good humor eluded him, and his nerves were strained by the act. It was a relief that he finally made his escape, with only a couple of curious looks from Zoey’s family – and countless concerned glances from the woman herself.</p><p>He had slid behind the wheel of his car and was staring moodily out the front window when she finally broached the subject. “Is everything okay?”</p><p>At the sound of her question, laced with concern, he winced. This wasn’t how the evening was supposed to go. He didn’t mean to worry her; he was just attempting to reconcile himself to reality. For a moment, he considered telling her he needed time, but she would undoubtedly ask him for what, and then what would he say? He needed time to come to terms with a truth she had never withheld from him from the start?</p><p>He let out a frustrated grunt, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel. He might be wallowing in regret, self-loathing, and a healthy dash of self-pity over his lack-of-love life, but she didn’t deserve his recrimination for her honesty. If anyone was a liar, it was him, because he pretended every day that what they had was enough for him.</p><p>He was doing the right thing, by ending things so they could part amicably as friends. Before his bitterness got the better of him and what they <em>did</em> have together was tarnished by secrets he didn’t dare tell. Even if the realization that she didn’t love him caused pain in his chest that neither faded nor went away.</p><p>With effort, he forced himself to relax his hold on the steering wheel, to assume a casual pose as he leaned back into his seat. “I’m fine, Zo. I’ve just…I’ve been thinking. Um. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I won the lottery. You know, the one to get into Hand-Picked?”</p><p>He turned to look at her just in time to see her eyes widen in excitement. “Really? That’s amazing! So, do you still want to go together, or—”</p><p>“Actually,” he cut in before she could continue. His stomach twisted slightly at the thought of what he was about to do, but he ruthlessly pushed the feeling away. It would hurt, but it was for the best, in the end. “I think…you should take the tickets. And you should ask Tobin to go with you.”</p><p>Zoey gasped like she was trying to inhale all the oxygen in the car. “<em>What</em>?” she demanded. “You’ve been on the waiting list <em>forever</em> for this place! Don’t even try to tell me that you’re not excited to go because I know you are. And now you’re not just giving them to me, but you want me to take someone else in your place? You’re joking, right?”</p><p>He lifted one shoulder in a weak shrug as he threw the car into drive and pulled into traffic. “It isn’t a joke. I just thought—”</p><p>“And this just occurred to you tonight? When we were at my parents’ house?” He could hear the confusion in her voice, which fell to flat resignation as she continued, “Or when we were having sex? Is that when you decided I should go on a date with someone else?”</p><p>Max’s wince transformed into a scowl. It was hardly fair for her to make him feel guilty about that, when she was the one thinking about another man when they were having sex to begin with. But his tone was defensive when he explained, “No, I’ve just…I’ve been thinking. About the future. What happens when…um…when <em>this</em> is over. And I know the whole point of it was to get over him, but…I don’t know. Don’t you think you’re being a little unfair to him?”</p><p>“<em>Unfair</em> to him?” she repeated, as though she couldn’t believe her ears. “You don’t even <em>like</em> him!”</p><p>“Well, no,” he agreed reluctantly. “But you love him. And I just—”</p><p>“You want me to date someone else,” she interjected, her voice once again flat and emotionless.</p><p><em>No.</em> That was the absolute last thing he wanted, but he pulled the car to the side of the road and turned to face her. “It isn’t that,” he admitted slowly.</p><p>“Then what is it?”</p><p><em>I want you to love me</em>. The thought came immediately to mind, but he forcefully shoved it away. When he finally replied, it was with <em>a </em>truth but not the <em>whole</em> truth. “I want you to be happy. If you love Tobin…maybe he would make you happy. And I was just wondering if you didn’t owe it to yourself to give him a shot before you decided to put your feelings behind you.”</p><p>Zoey’s breath came out in a small puff of exasperation, her eyes darting to the window, to gaze out at the passersby on the street. “I understand what you’re saying,” she admitted, choosing her words with care and deliberation. “I even appreciate the thought. But I don’t want to go to Hand-Picked with Tobin. I want to go with you.”</p><p>A quick grimace flashed across his face, but he shook his head, not wanting to make her suspicious. Encouraging her to follow her heart was something a friend would do. If he continued to press the issue, she might wonder if he had deeper motives. “We don’t have to make a decision tonight. Just…maybe just think about giving Tobin a shot,” he added lamely.</p><p>He turned forward, ready to resume their drive back to his apartment, but the sound of her softly-spoken question arrested him in his tracks. “Are you really that eager for this this to end?”</p><p>He needed a moment to school his expression before turning back to her. “It isn’t that,” he reassured her gently, seeing the hurt on her face. “It’s just…” He reached for her, and for a second, he saw her flinch and start to pull away, and it broke his heart. But then she steeled her shoulders, letting him touch her if he would do so, even as he dropped his hand to his lap. Sucking in a deep breath, he forced himself to explain. “What you feel for me is friendship. And, okay, maybe some attraction,” he admitted. They were sleeping together, so she couldn’t find him completely repulsive. “What you feel for him is love. And I just think…I know which one of those I would choose if I were you.”</p><p>He could see the doubt in her eyes, so he tucked one finger beneath her chin and lifted her head so he could look her in the eye as he swept his thumb across the line of one cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you. I’m just trying to do the right thing, here.” And doing so hurt him more than he could say. “You don’t have to date Tobin if you don’t want to, but if you love him, then there must be a reason why. I don’t want you to throw away something that could be amazing because it’s complicated or because you’re scared. I just want you to be happy. That’s all.”</p><p>“That’s all I want for you, too,” she murmured, taking his hand in hers and giving it a quick squeeze. “I just wish—”</p><p>Her voice trailed off, but he couldn’t take the sadness in her wide eyes, and so he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. “It’s okay. We don’t have to make a decision about Hand-Picked tonight. Let’s go home.”</p><p>As he pulled back into traffic, he thought about how easily those words came to his lips. <em>Let’s go home</em>. And how deceptive they were. Their home wasn’t together, and it never would be.</p><hr/><p>Zoey’s mood was still subdued when they returned to Max’s apartment, and his blood was still heated from their encounter in the garden. His hands itched to reach for her, to pull her toward him and finish what they started. But in his mind, what had interrupted their lovemaking had grown in significance and certainty until he could almost hear her say, <em>“I love you, Tobin”</em> and the inflated memory tore at his heart.</p><p>Heartbreak warred with longing, and what he really needed was a clear head. So when Zoey reached for his hand, ready to accompany him into the bedroom, he pretended not to see and mumbled something about needing to go to the restroom, instead.</p><p>He didn’t even bother to turn on the light as he stepped inside the tiny room, his head falling back against the wall as he leaned against its solid surface, sucking in a few deep breaths. As cruel as his memory was in imagining words that might not have been said, it was even more so in the accuracy of his recollection of Zoey’s face earlier that evening. Softly illuminated by moonlight, she’d been beautiful. Tempting. Irresistible. Like a siren of folklore, ensnaring him with her face and her voice, until he would willingly follow her to his doom.</p><p>“Zoey,” he whispered into the dark, feeling his body grow hard at the memory of her. The press of her lips against his. The taste of her. Fumbling with the clasp of his pants, he pulled out his erection and wrapped his hand around his shaft, giving it one long, smooth stroke.</p><p>In his imagination, the hand wrapped around him wasn’t his own but hers, and the memory of her eyes and her smile spurred him on. The pace of his hand increased, and he groaned her name in a guttural growl that echoed in the tiny room.</p><p>In the periphery of his consciousness, he barely registered when the bathroom door creaked open, and the very real voice of the woman from his imagination seemed to travel to him from a distance. “Max? Did you call for – oh.”</p><p>His head snapped to the side, and he dimly registered that an appropriate reaction would be mortification. At the very least, he should stop what he was doing. But instead, his eyes locked with hers as his hand increased its rhythm, growling her name through gritted teeth.</p><p>But she didn’t draw away or slam the door. Instead, her gaze still locked on his, she stepped forward. There was no indecision in her touch when she wrapped her hand over his, stilling his steady, stroking rhythm.</p><p>His reaction was instinctive. “No,” he breathed, shying away from her, but her gaze was steady and unflinching, and the next time she reached for him, he cursed himself silently for his weakness but didn’t pull away.</p><p>She lifted her eyebrows, silently offering, but when he shook his head, she scooted beside him instead. His hand was shaking when he placed it over hers, silently setting the pace, and his breath came out in a low, guttural groan when she followed his lead.</p><p>He’d been on edge all evening, so it didn’t take long to bring him to climax, the warmth and scent and touch of her filling his senses as he poured himself into her hand. When he came, her name was a soft sob – of frustration, temptation, and even a little self-disgust at his weakness – on his lips.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Max had been in a strange mood since the night at the bar, and Zoey was at a loss as to what to do about it. It didn’t help that she didn’t have the first clue where to begin on her master plan to get him to fall in love with her. It turned out it wasn’t easy to steal a person's heart, particularly when said person was one’s best friend. He already knew her well enough that if “getting to know her” would do the trick, that ship had already sailed. And since they were currently engaged in a friends with benefits situation, it didn’t seem likely that she’d get to his heart through his libido, either.</p><p>Of course, he wasn’t exactly making things easier for her. Every time she tried to redirect the conversation to a topic involving emotional intimacy, he would redirect the topic to her supposed love for Tobin. The closer she tried to get to him, the harder he pushed her in the other man’s direction.</p><p>She knew he was only doing what he thought would make her happy, but if he suggested one more way for her to catch Tobin’s eye, she was going to have to smother him with a pillow in his sleep.</p><p>What she needed was an opportunity for him to see her in a different light. So, over breakfast the morning of the unresolved Hand-Picked reservation, she ventured, “Can I ask you a question?” At his nod, she continued, “Why aren’t you married?”</p><p>Taken by surprise, Max spluttered, choking on his orange juice, before throwing her a look of mild alarm. But when he spoke, his voice was mildly teasing. “Okay, which of my family members have you been talking to?” Narrowing his eyes, he guessed, “My mom, right? I’m betting it was my mom. That’s one of her favorite topics.”</p><p>Reveling in the lighthearted mood, she grinned and shook her head. “No, of course not! I was just wondering.” He looked skeptical, so she attempted to explain. “It’s just…you’re a great guy. You’re handsome. Funny. Smart. I mean, I could go on, but you know I think you’re amazing or you wouldn’t be my best friend! I just don’t understand why you’re still single.” Realizing that the very situation they were in was perhaps part of the cause, she pointed between the two of them and added lamely, "Other than <em>this</em>, I mean."</p><p>Max’s amusement shifted into discomfort as he poked at his eggs with his fork. “Oh, I don’t know,” he replied dispiritedly. “I just haven’t had a lot of time to date lately, I guess.”</p><p>It was just the sort of opening she’d been hoping to find. “Well, I wanted to talk about that, actually. You’ve been so helpful to me with the whole, um,” she hesitated, not wanting to interject Tobin’s name into the conversation for fear he would take the opportunity to derail the topic, “<em>friends with benefits</em> thing. I could help you with the dating thing. If you wanted.”</p><p>He didn’t answer right away, as he put his fork back down on his plate and gazed at her across the table through narrowed eyes. “What do you mean? You want to set me up on a date?”</p><p>“<em>No,</em>” she shot back, more forcefully than she intended. In a halting voice, she explained, “I meant…you know, while we’re together…doing all of <em>this</em> anyway…if you wanted, you could…um…<em>pretend</em> you were on a date. With me. For practice. If you wanted.”</p><p>She couldn’t read his expression, though every muscle in his body seemed to go still at her suggestion. “For practice.” He seemed to be testing out the words, seeing how they tasted on his tongue. “You think I need <em>practice</em> dating?”</p><p>She had the feeling her offer had been misunderstood, but she wasn’t sure how to clear it up without telling him the truth – she was hoping if he “practiced” dating her, he might realize how much he liked it. That they were actually good together. “Um,” she began, but when her brain didn’t offer a follow-up, she fell silent again.</p><p>“Am I really that bad at,” he paused, waving his hand between them, “<em>all this</em>, that you think I need practice?”</p><p>He looked hurt, as his gaze fell to his plate and he rose to take his dishes to the sink. Silently cursing herself for being seven kinds of fool, Zoey jumped to her feet and tried to explain, “It isn’t like that! I just thought—”</p><p>She didn’t get a chance to complete her thought. As she reached out to place her hand on his arm, the dishes in his hand clattered into the sink and he spun around to face her. Grabbing the  wrist of the hand stretched toward him, he stepped closer to her, crowding her back against the table. His eyes were wide, his pupils dilated, and her mouth went dry when he pressed his body to hers. “I don’t—”</p><p>“What kind of practice did you have in mind?” he asked, ignoring her weak attempt to explain. His hand slid up her arm to her shoulder, his fingers curling into her hair as his palm cupped the side of her neck. Though his eyes were dark with frustration and desire, his touch was soft, and Zoey heard a soft moan in the back of his throat when her tongue flicked against her lower lip, wetting it. If she moved away, he would let her, she knew. But moving <em>away</em> from Max was the furthest thing from her mind.</p><p>When he still didn’t move, she figured he was waiting for an answer, but she could no longer remember the question. “I-I’m not sure,” she finally supplied, her voice lacking conviction.</p><p>“Then I’ll remind you.” Dropping his hands to her waist, he lifted her easily, perching her on the edge of the table, and she froze as she tested its stability and prayed it would hold. Max didn’t seem to wield the same amount of patience, however, as he bent down and captured her earlobe between his teeth, scraping it gently until she let out a tiny gasp.</p><p>Zoey sometimes forgot the strength of Max’s body – hunched behind a computer screen all day, it had once been easy to overlook the chiseled muscles in his chest and the power in his hands. Just like his outward demeanor, Max was a mass of contradictions when he held her in his arms. His hands were hard and demanding when they tore her sweater over her head, tossing it behind him where it landed halfway in the sink before sliding slowly to the floor. Her blouse was next, impatient hands pulling at the front folds until it fell open, a single solitary button making a slight pinging sound against the tile as it flew free of its threaded constraints and rolled under the refrigerator, where it would remain in ignominy for the next five years, until the appliance lurched into disfunction under the watch of the apartment’s next tenant and was eventually replaced.</p><p>She didn’t care about her sweater, or her blouse, or even that rogue button. Not when Max’s hands slid over her bare skin, gently pushing her back against the table’s cool surface. His mouth trailed warm kisses from her neck down to her chest, where his lips and tongue curved along the lacy edge of her bra, teasing her until she arched against him with a soft, pleading whimper. It was only then that he sucked her breast into his mouth, tonguing her nipple through the thin fabric, and she fisted her hands into his hair to hold him in place.</p><p>But Max, normally so accommodating in bed, didn’t seem interested in letting her drive the show this time. Instead, he ignored her pleas to continue, kiss her again, <em>for heaven’s sake just don’t stop</em> and straightened, grabbing her around the hips and yanking her to the edge of the table.</p><p>Letting out a tiny shriek of surprise at the sudden shift in position, Zoey’s hands flew over her head, where her hand landed in her forgotten plate of congealed eggs before she sent it flying across the room. “Oh, shit,” she breathed when she heard glass impact and shatter against the wall, but Max barely glanced in its direction. Instead, he growled in irritation at her distraction and swept out an arm, sending her silverware and the (thankfully, plastic) cup to follow in its wake.</p><p>Then his hands returned to the button of her capri pants, sliding it free of its binding. Her zipper immediately followed, the metal teeth releasing to reveal a peek at the black panties she wore beneath. With one smooth motion, he lifted her hips off the table and yanked her pants down her legs, throwing them in a forlorn heap on top of her sweater, leaving her underwear in place.</p><p>“Please,” she moaned again, reaching for his shirt, wanting to feel his bare skin against hers. But he stilled her hands, returning to the table on either side of her head and holding them there with a gentle but firm grip that she knew would release instantly if she pushed against him. Instead, sucking in shallow, quick breaths, she forced herself to relax under his touch, silently conveying her consent to his direction in this particular sexual interlude.</p><p>Flashing a quick smile of approval, he released her wrists and scooted back, bending to press a line of kisses along the lower curve of her ribcage. Then down her stomach, where he swirled his tongue into the small cleft of her navel before reaching the black lace of her panties. Panties she’d bought on impulse the week before for him, for only his eyes to see, though she’d never told him as much.</p><p>She held her breath, waiting for him to twist the fabric down her legs and throw it aside, but – just as he had done with her bra – he lingered, instead. Teasing her by trailing his mouth along the elastic bands – first across her stomach and then where they curved along her thighs. Clenching her hands into fists, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to suck in some steadying breaths, resisting the urge to reach for him again. Whatever game he had it in his mind to play, she didn’t want it to end.</p><p>But she couldn’t completely control her body, and her hips writhed in silent demand, even as her lips repeated the desperate plea. “Please.” And then his mouth was between her legs, tonguing her through her panties until the lacy fabric was wet with a combination of his saliva and her juices. Although his ministrations were not without pleasure, they did not bring the solace of release.</p><p>Her body acted on instinct, rearing up as opened her mouth to demand he finish what he started, but he pressed one hand against her chest and gently guided her back down, offering her a small shake of his head as he rose back to his feet. However, rather than chastise her for breaking the unspoken rules of their game, he demanded, “Close your eyes.”</p><p>Zoey complied, though not without meeting his demand with a tiny huff of frustrated desire, as she settled back against the tabletop. And then she discovered the next phase of Max’s little game, as he lightly brushed a finger against a spot, just below her collarbone. “There,” he whispered.</p><p>Her eyes still shut, she murmured, “There what?” but her question became gratuitous when she felt the soft caress of his breath against her bare skin, followed shortly thereafter by his mouth. She shuddered involuntarily at the feel of his lips and tongue, her breath catching in her throat and stifling an unconscious moan before it could escape.</p><p>Again, she felt the soft stroke of one fingertip, this time against her right inner thigh. With her eyes shut, even her lungs took a momentary rest to allow every ounce of her concentration to hone in on that spot as she waited for the warm breath that was to follow. And follow it did, immediately preceding the heat of his kiss.</p><p>Zoey had once considered the possible merits of a blindfold, fantasizing about placing something over Max’s eyes, relishing the proof of his complete trust in her as she explored the body that pleasured her during her waking hours and teased her during her sleeping ones. In her fantasy, she would pepper unexpected kisses along his body until he begged to for release. She’d never realized how erotic forewarning could be, but with every gentle stroke of his finger, her entire body went into full alert, every nerve ending sizzling in anticipation of what was to follow.</p><p>His game continued until, arching her back against the table, her breath coming in gasping sobs, she begged him over and over to stop this torment. She needed him, his body against hers. Stroking her. Filling her completely.</p><p>Then, when she was least expecting it, he lifted her hips off the table and swept her panties down and away, baring her completely. Putting his hands on her thighs, Max exerted soft pressure until she was spread shamelessly, wantonly, for him, but it didn’t even occur to her to feel shame as he moved to stand between her thighs. She heard the soft rustle of fabric and a tiny clatter of metal against tile as his pants fell to the floor and hitched her his upward, searching for him.</p><p>But instead of sliding inside her, she felt him lean over her, his breath hot against her cheek as he covered her body with his own. Through the thin fabric of his shirt, she could feel the solid warmth of his chest, but it wasn’t enough, and she cursed the soft cotton that separated them. Though he still wore his shirt, when he lay his arms over hers, she could feel the bare skin of his forearms, and she knew he had rolled up his sleeves at some point during their exercise.</p><p>“Open your eyes,” he demanded, and she did so with a soft sigh of pleasure at the sight of him. Her gaze swept over the lines of his face, so beloved to her now that she didn’t know why it had taken so long for her to see what he meant to her. Unaware of her musings, he continued, “Tell me what you want.”</p><p>“I want – I want to feel you,” she breathed, but her answer seemed to dissatisfy him, as he shook his head in response.</p><p>“No. Tell me what you <em>want</em>,” he demanded again.</p><p>“You. I want you.” Still, he didn’t move, and she didn’t know what he was waiting for. A long, tense moment passed between them, filled with confusion on her part and silent demand on his. Finally, when she could bear it no longer, she begged, “Max, pl—”</p><p>He didn’t give her a chance to finish her entreaty. At the sound of his name, a slight smile curved the corner of his lips, and he hissed out a long, “Yes,” even as he slid inside her. Zoey gasped at the sudden, if welcome, intrusion, her head rolling back against the table. The edge of the table bit hard against her thighs when he thrust into her, leaning over her until he filled her world with the sight and smell and warmth of him.</p><p>“Don’t,” he growled, and she gave a small shake of her head in reply, unsure of what he demanded of her. “Don’t look away.” It was a command she was more than happy to follow, bringing her hands up to clutch the fabric stretched across his shoulders as he drove into her again and again. Still, his voice fell to a harsh whisper as he repeated, “Look at me. Look at me.”</p><p>“Max,” she breathed and, hearing his soft grunt of pleasure at the sound, she whispered it again. “Max.”</p><p>“That’s right.” Sweat dotted his brow, and his breathing was labored as he slammed his hips into hers. In lovemaking, he was often soft and tender, but this coupling was hard and fast, his body demanding something of hers. “It’s me. Don’t think of him. <em>Think of me.</em>”</p><p>Think of who? In her addled state, she couldn’t even bring Tobin’s name to mind, let alone an explanation for why Max would confuse the subject of her desire. Already on edge from his teasing, it didn’t take him long to carry her over, sending her body into trembling convulsions as she came, her mouth wide as she cried his name.</p><p>Pressing his forehead against her shoulder, she felt the whisper of her name like a prayer against her skin as he followed her over the edge, his body quivering as he poured himself into her. She held him close to her chest, her fingers stroking through his hair, damp with sweat, as she waited for his breathing to slow and steady. Finally, when he hand gained control of himself once more, he tilted his head to press one final, demanding kiss against her lips and straightened.</p><p>Replete with satisfaction, her mind no longer muddled with desire, Zoey recognized she should be embarrassed by her wanton state, her legs still spread, her body open to him. But she didn’t move as he bent and retrieved his pants, pulling them up to his hips and fastening them quickly. It was only when he stepped away that she rose from her position on the table, letting her legs fall closed as she idly wondered if they would yet support her weight. He turned away, busying himself by collecting her clothes before grabbing a hand broom from under the sink to gather the broken glass.</p><p>Unable to see his face, Zoey silently pondered the line of his back as she clutched her clothes to her chest. When he remained turned away from her long enough to make her wonder if it was by design rather than accident or coincidence, she ventured in a soft voice, “Max? What was that?”</p><p>This seemed to get his attention, as he shot her a quick grin over his shoulder while he dumped the glass shards into the trash. “I thought it would be self-explanatory, personally. Do we need to do it again to clear up any confusion?”</p><p>He tossed the hand broom onto the counter and stepped toward her, a wicked gleam in his eyes, but she held up a hand to stop him. “’Don’t think of him. Think of me.’ What was that about.”</p><p>Max froze in place, a shadow passing over his face, and she wondered if he would answer. Finally, however, he stepped closer. Tucking his forefinger under her chin, he tilted her head up to meet his eyes. Though his touch was gentle, his voice wasn’t when he said, “It means Tobin may be in your heart, but don’t forget, <em>I’m</em> the one in your bed.”</p><p>Blinking in confusion, she offered him a slight frown in return. “I don’t – when we’re together, Max, the only person I think about is you. You know that, right?” Her stomach sank when he didn’t answer right away, and her voice took on a desperate twinge when she demanded, “Tell me you know that.”</p><p>Though he’d insisted she meet his eyes, he was the first to look away, his gaze falling to the ground as he released her. “Oh, sure,” he replied flippantly, moving away.</p><p>She didn’t believe him, and when he turned to leave the room, she jumped to her feet, clutching her clothes to her chest like they would serve as a protective talisman against whatever darkness had been growing, unknown to her and unnamed by him, between them. “Max!”</p><p>He hesitated. Straightened, his head tilted away from her. Ran one hand through his hair. Finally, his breath came in a small explosion of air, and he turned to face her again. “I know…I wasn’t first or even second with you. I’m not the guy you chose. I’m the guy who’s just filling in until the one you love takes my place. And usually I’m okay with that. It’s what I signed up for, after all. But sometimes…” He shook his head. “Sometimes, being a placeholder really sucks, Zoey.”</p><p>Caught by surprise by his shift in mood and floored by his unexpected revelation, Zoey found herself unable to speak as he strode out of the kitchen, the sound of the front door unnaturally loud in the quiet apartment as it slammed shut behind him.</p>
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